


Beneath the Shady Tree

by ThirdGenerationRockette



Series: Holiday Weekends [2]
Category: The Newsroom (US TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, s1AU, wedding fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-28
Updated: 2018-03-01
Packaged: 2019-03-25 06:33:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 96,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13828521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThirdGenerationRockette/pseuds/ThirdGenerationRockette
Summary: "Nina, what can I do for you?" She wastes no time on pleasantries, she knows Nina isn't calling for a chat and she's really too tired today to play her games."I have a source who has come to me with a story," Nina says, pausing for a second. "And it's something I think you should know."





	1. Chapter 1

"What are you doing out here?" She stands at the end of the couch waiting for him to look at her, unsurprised by the exhaustion on his face when he does.

"Couldn't sleep." He shrugs and runs a hand through his hair. "Didn't want to wake you."

"It's two in the morning, Billy, coffee isn't exactly going to help with that," she says, nodding at the mug on the table in front of him as she takes a step closer.

"It's tea," he answers quietly, as he slides something down between the cushions, aiming for casual, but failing. "I barely drank any of it, but you always make tea when you can't sleep, so I thought it was worth a shot."

"What's that?" She gestures to the cushion, even though she's fairly certain she knows what he's hiding because it's the same thing that has kept him awake almost every night for the past three weeks.

"What? Nothing, it's nothing," he says, forcing a smile. "Let's go back to bed."

"Okay." She smiles back and reaches for his hand, letting go as soon as he stands up and swooping in to grab the magazine stuffed down the centre of the couch. "I fucking knew it! You know this is bullshit, Will, complete bullshit, a hatchet job from my idiot ex-boyfriend. Why is it bothering you so much, this stupid story?"

"He is an idiot, and it _is_ a total hatchet job." He tries to take it from her but she holds it behind her back and he gives up with a sigh. "But what if…what if he's right?"

"He's never been right about anything," she says, her hands gripping the magazine tightly, fury building at Brian again, at herself, at Will for allowing this to get to him so badly. "I highly doubt he's decided to start now."

"I should never have brought him in." He sighs again and reaches for her, changing his mind almost immediately, perhaps sensing her anger.

"No shit." She holds the magazine out in front of her, waving it at him as her irritation grows. "But you did, and this is the outcome, and there isn't anything we can do about it now. You brought Brian in to punish me some more, and it worked, but now you're being punished too and you didn't quite expect that, did you? You didn't-"

"I'm sorry, you know I am, I've told you I'm sorry and I meant it." He steps closer and this time he does reach for her, his hands coming to rest on her shoulders. "I'll tell you every fucking day for the rest of our lives how sorry I am if it'll help."

"I think that might get old pretty quickly. You know, if you have chocolate every day, you stop getting quite so excited about chocolate," she says, her tone softening. She knows he regrets having Brian do the story, she's just angry that now the article is actually in print it's dragging everything up all over again.

"Yeah, well." He shrugs slightly, watching her closely as he does when she knows he's trying to read her mood, predict her reaction. "It's the thought that counts."

She nods and steps back, his hands dropping from her shoulders as she moves towards the door, sliding her feet into the first pair of shoes she spots, thankfully hers. She pulls the lock open and hears him cross the room in what she thinks is one single step, his hand landing on the door in front of her.

"Mac, don't go, please." There's a note of panic in his voice and she wonders if he'll ever stop thinking she's going to walk out every time they fight. "I'm sorry, I know I've been a fucking shit about this article, I know-"

"You have. You’ve been like a bear with a sore head over this but, for fuck’s sake, I'm not going anywhere, _ever_." She turns and slides her hands up his chest, letting out a long sigh. "I'm going outside to throw this piece of crap down the chute."

"Leave it in the box with the rest of the newspapers," he says, carrying on when he sees her raised eyebrow. "I'm not going to drag it out of there, I swear."

"Fine." She ducks under his arm and walks into the kitchen, tossing the magazine into the existing pile of papers waiting to be thrown out before moving over to where he has followed her, stopping in the doorway and looking up at him.

"We really didn't talk about half the stuff we should have, did we?" he asks, tucking her messy hair behind her ear, reminding her that she was in bed not so long ago even though it's starting to feel like she's been awake for hours.

"I think...we tried," she says, smiling at him. "And then everything was just so good, still is so good, and neither of us wanted to..."

"Burst the bubble?" He returns her smile, shaking his head slightly.

"I guess so." She knows he's right, they came back from Fourth of July at Charlie's and it was almost like it had been a dream that neither of them wanted to wake up from. "This weekend. Let's sit down this weekend and talk, okay?"

"Okay, this weekend. We’ll drink coffee, and eat bacon, and talk." he says, his smile soft as he runs his thumb slowly across her cheekbone.

"I see your bacon and raise you my pancakes," she says, leaning into his touch. 

"Deal," he answers, with a nod. "Back to bed?"

"Yeah, and don't think I won't hear you if you sneak out to salvage that magazine," she says with a smirk. "I _will_ hear you, I'll follow you out here, and I'll hurl it from the damn balcony. Are you listening to me?"

"I am." He reaches down and takes her hand, waiting as she kicks her shoes off again. "I hear you."

Shrugging off the cardigan she had thrown on to head out into the living room, she slides into bed and grins as he pulls her towards him. She curls up against him, half tucked into his side, half splayed across his chest, one leg thrown over his, her foot resting on his shin. Her hand slips inside his t-shirt, her fingers stroking through the light covering of blonde hair, her nails scratching faintly across his skin. Shifting, she wriggles higher up the bed and opens her mouth, running her tongue across his neck, the taste of him anchoring her, taking her mind, and hopefully his too, off the damn story.

His arms tighten around her, warm and solid, and his fingers roam over her neck and into her hair as she tilts her head back to look up at him, smiling as his hand cups the back of her head, his fingers gently kneading.

“You’re not going to grouch anymore about the stupid story, right?” she murmurs, her nails continuing their path across his chest. “You know he only wrote what he did because he’s jealous. He wishes he was half the man you are, he could only dream of having an ounce of your integrity and your decency, and he knows that, so he wrote what he wrote, a spiteful piece of crap.”

“I guess.” He sounds sincere but she can see the uncertainty in his eyes. Sighing she rolls fully onto his chest, looking up at him with a slight frown.

“You have got to stop feeling so sad about this, so angry,” she says, pulling herself up to hover over him, stroking her thumbs across his face. “I know you hate what he wrote, I know you hate that this has thrown him back into our lives, indirectly, thank God, but still…it just doesn’t matter, Will. It’s a nasty, bitter piece of writing from someone who isn’t worthy of the time we’re spending on it.”

"I just can't help thinking..." He pauses and her frown deepens as she starts to guess where he's headed. "What if that's what people think? What if I've been fucking kidding myself and nobody takes me seriously for a second, what if-"

"Oh my God, enough!" Her thumbs stop moving but she doesn't lift her hands from his face and she fixes her eyes firmly on his. "Why do you think I took this job when Charlie offered to me, despite knowing I was the last person you wanted as your EP? Because I had watched you sliding into mediocrity and I knew you were better than that, I knew you could _do_ better. Do you think I'd have bothered going to Northwestern if I didn't think you were capable of great things, if I didn't-"

"Wait, back up." He stops her, his eyes wide, and she realises that amongst all the things they haven't yet talked about, Northwestern is one of them. "It _was_ you?"

"Yep." She smiles sweetly at him, thinking of how long she's been holding onto her hand-written signs, how many times she was on the edge of telling him, and now here they are, finally.

"Why didn't you tell me?" He sounds baffled and she laughs. "I'm serious, Mac. All this time I thought I was fucking hallucinating and it was you all along?"

"I was waiting for the right time, I guess." She pauses, thinking of that first day, standing outside the elevator, ready to tell him, to show him her notepad, only for the doors to close and the moment to pass.

"And the right time didn't present itself until now?" he asks, a hint of a smile threatening his lips.

"I tried to tell you, more than once, even on my very first day at ACN, but I just..." She shrugs and bites her lip slightly. "I'm telling you now, aren't I?"

"Better late than never?" His fingers start to move through her hair again and he smiles.

"Exactly," she says, leaning down and rubbing her nose softly against his. "Now stop whining and kiss me."

*

The digits on the coffee machine clock look brighter than usual, harsh blue lights screaming how early it is at her. It's actually no earlier than her usual morning start, but after so little sleep, it feels it, and her eyes slip into that state where they want to shift from what they're fixed on but can't quite seem to manage it. Leaning back against the counter, she watches as the dial rolls over, 7.22am, and she pulls herself out of her trance to take two mugs out, hopeful that the coffee will kick in quickly.

She looks briefly in the direction of the pile of papers where the magazine was left last night, even though she knows he hasn't touched it. They had gone back to bed, having agreed to do some talking this weekend, had fast and slightly urgent sex, apology sex really, at almost three this morning, and then he had slept solidly while she lay wide awake. He's much worse at handling tiredness than she is though, so if a few hours sleep has instilled some calm in him, her exhaustion for a day will be worth it. He walks in just as she's about to go and try to gently nudge him awake, his hair in its usual morning state, but his eyes looking much less bleary than recent mornings, and she thinks maybe she should have tackled him about his obsession with the article days ago.

"You're up early," he says, stretching slightly and reaching to scratch the back of his neck. "Considering."

"You slept better." It isn't a question, she knows he did, and she smiles as he nods. "Good."

"You didn't, did you?" He steps closer and she knows he can see the faint circles under her eyes giving away just how little she slept.

"Not really," she says with a shrug. "It's Friday though, I can sleep in tomorrow while you make my pancakes."

"Was that some part of the deal I missed last night?" he asks as he reaches for the coffee pot and their mugs.

"Well, if you will fall asleep while I'm adding extra clauses." She smiles and takes the mug he's offering, sliding her hands around it and taking a few seconds to savour the smell of the coffee as it wafts up towards her.

"You didn't sleep even after..." His eyebrows raise and he grins slightly.

"I know, your sexual acrobatics usually send me right to dreamland." Pausing, she blows over the top of the hot coffee and takes a tentative sip. "Don't take it personally, there was just a lot swirling around in my brain last night, I think."

"You were at Northwestern." He sounds like he isn't sure if he imagined her telling him that and he looks at her expectantly.

"Yeah." She nods slowly, again thinking about how many times she almost told him and how it seems fitting that she would finally blurt it out in the early hours, almost forgetting that he didn't already know. "I just needed to see you, I wasn't planning anything, I mean, not really, but then when she asked that question and you paused, I...I knew what she was going to ask beforehand."

"What?" He puts his coffee down and leans against the counter, watching her. "How?"

"I'd talked to her outside when we were waiting to go in." She remembers the girl's enthusiasm, her slight embarrassment about what she was planning to ask, wonders how she's doing now. "She told me what she wanted to ask, and I...I gave her a tip on how to be first up at the microphone."

"So the fact that my answer ended up with me all over the fucking YouTube looking like a maniac..." He stops and she remembers that day so clearly even though in some ways it feels like years ago. "That was all down to you. You engineered it."

"I did what I needed to do. You needed a kick up the arse, something to remind you of how good you could be, so yeah, you're welcome," she says with a smirk. "Also, it's not _the_ YouTube, it's just YouTube. You're so uncool, Billy."

"I know that," he says, picking up his mug again and pausing to take a sip. "It's something I work hard on."

"Well, it's paying off." She laughs at the expression on his face before she glances at the time. "We need to get moving, I need to shower."

"Me too." He takes another drink and puts the mug down on the counter. "We could save time and water by just showering together, right?"

"Oh, absolutely," she says, grabbing his hand and leading him from the kitchen. "You slept, I didn't, it might not be safe for me to shower alone, I could fall asleep and drown."

"We definitely can't take that risk." He squeezes her fingers and she smiles, stopping as he tugs on her hand suddenly and pulls her to him. "I can't have you drowning a month before we get married."

"I'm going to assume you didn't mean that to sound like you'd prefer I waited until after we're married." She leans up and kisses him quickly, grinning against his lips before she pulls away.

"Your assumption is correct," he says as he squeezes her hand again and they head for the bathroom.

*

She's lost count of how many cups of coffee she has had since arriving at the office, but she suspects it's probably too many. She's also fairly sure her tiredness is the kind that won't be beaten, that today is one of those days where she couldn't be revived if she was being given it intravenously. Her phone rings and it makes her jump as she grabs for it and almost takes her mug down in the process, frowning slightly as she sees it isn't a number she recognises.

"Mackenzie speaking." She rubs a hand across her forehead and holds back a yawn.

"Mackenzie, it's Nina Howard at TMI." The voice down the line surprises her, and fills her with instant suspicion, not helped by the sniping piece about their engagement that Nina wrote just a few weeks earlier.

(Mackenzie McHale is Will McAvoy's Executive Producer. She is also the ex-girlfriend who cheated on him and then sent a round robin email announcing just that. It seems that things over at ACN have changed, and TMI can exclusively reveal that McAvoy and McHale are now engaged and apparently planning to marry in the next few weeks. Can anyone say 'shotgun'?)

"Nina, what can I do for you?" She wastes no time on pleasantries, she knows Nina isn't calling for a chat and she's really too tired today to play her games.

"I have a source who has come to me with a story," Nina says, pausing for a second. "And it's something I think you should know."

"What is it now?" She sighs down the phone and her heart sinks and she wonders what dirt Nina Howard thinks she has dug up this time.

"Not over the phone." Nina cuts into her thoughts and she closes her eyes for just a second as she waits. "Bryant Park, the Andrada Monument, fifteen minutes, and come alone, okay?"

"Seriously?" she asks, angry now at Nina disrupting her day and refusing to tell her why.

"Fifteen minutes." She realises as Nina hangs up that she has left her with no choice. If this turns out to be something TMI runs that she could have prevented, she'll be furious with herself. Taking a final mouthful of coffee, she picks up her bag and heads for the door.

*

Nina is already waiting when she arrives, pacing back and forth, stopping when she spots her approaching.

"Mackenzie." Nina nods and there's a half smile on her face, genuine or not she has no idea. "Sorry to drag you out here but I really didn't want to do this over the phone."

"Didn't want to do what over the phone?" she asks, frowning as she waits for whatever Nina is about to tell her. "What is it you think you have on me this time?"

"It's not you," Nina says quickly, stepping closer and nudging her arm slightly as she starts walking. "It's your fiancé. Congratulations, by the way."

"Thank you," she says, sharply. "Shame you couldn't have just written that a couple of weeks ago."

"Come on, Mac, we both know that's not what sells," Nina answers, giving her a smug look.

"What is it, Nina? I don't have long." She looks away, focuses on the path ahead, thinking she'll be better prepared to react to whatever Nina thinks she has on Will if she doesn't have to look at her.

"I know Will was high the night of the Bin Laden broadcast," Nina says, her voice laced with something...triumph, perhaps. "As soon as I find a second source, I'm running it."

"Oh please!" She keeps her voice steady and shakes her head, hoping her expression is hiding the panic she feels creeping up her spine as she looks back at Nina. "He was not high, I don't know who the hell fed you that one, but you need to reconsider your sources, he-"

"He was high, Mac, I know it, so don't waste your breath." Nina pauses, glancing around them briefly before she goes on. "Not that anyone would have known it, it was a great show, it really was. Whatever you did to get him through it...well, I-"

"Like I said, I don't know where you got this from, but it's bullshit," she says, firmly. "You said it yourself, it was a great show that night. Do you really think he could have pulled that off if he was wasted?"

"I think...anyone else, maybe not." Nina shrugs and stops walking, turning to her and lowering her voice slightly. "But Will? With you doing what you do, I think he absolutely could. He's lucky he has a good EP."

"Two Peabody Awards." She suddenly feels irked by Nina's tone, her smug look. "I'd say he has more than a _good_ EP."

"Fine," Nina says with a flick of her hair and a look of irritation crossing her face. "He's lucky he has such an accomplished, competent, thoroughly spectacular EP. Especially on the nights he's so high he probably can't even tie his own shoelaces."

"I really need to get back," she says, affecting an air of calm she hopes looks more convincing than it feels. "You won't find a second source because your first one is shitting you. It's not true."

"Yes, Mackenzie, it is." Nina says, quietly. "And you'd better hope I don't find another source, because if I do, I will be running the story."

Turning, Nina walks away, leaving her standing on the path, her stomach sinking, her chest feeling tight. She doesn't know who Nina's first source is, but she does know that they need to make very certain she doesn't find a second.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"I got a call a little while ago, from Nina Howard at TMI," she says, watching as his face creases into a frown. "She said she'd been given something by a source and when she gets a second source, if she gets a second, she'll be running the story.”_

Will is at Neal's desk when she steps back into the newsroom, frowning as Neal looks flustered. She wonders what impossible task he's asking now, and whether Neal's explanations of why what he's asking is impossible are falling on deaf ears. As much as she hates the conversation she needs to have with him, she is quite pleased to be able to rescue Neal in what looks like his hour of need. Crossing the room, she cups her hand around Will's elbow and leans in, not quite managing to return the smile he gives her as he looks up.

"I need to talk to you," she says, trying to keep her tone level, forcing the shake from her voice. "My office."

He raises his eyebrows but says nothing, letting her lead the way into her office, closing the door behind them.

"Is everything alright?" She can hear the worry in his voice and she knows she needs to just tell him, no beating around the bush.

"I got a call a little while ago, from Nina Howard at TMI," she says, watching as his face creases into a frown. "She said she'd been given something by a source and when she gets a second source, _if_ she gets a second, she'll be running the story.”

"Fuck, what does she think she has now for her juicy little gossip rag?" he asks, his voice dripping with impatience. "This had better fucking not be about you. I swear to God, if she-"

"She knows you were high the night of the Bin Laden broadcast." She takes a breath and goes on before he can say anything else. "I have no idea how she knows, and I denied it of course, told her she needs to think about finding better sources, but fuck, Billy, if she finds a second source..."

"I'm screwed," he says, running a hand across his forehead, thumb and forefinger pressing against his temples.

"We both are." She nods, leaning back against the edge of her desk and dropping down onto it, suddenly even more exhausted than she was already. "You went on the air, I prepped you and let you go out live to the country to break the biggest story in _years_ , all while you were higher than a giraffe's arse. Shit."

"Alright, okay..." He's thinking, running it through his head, trying to make sense of it, she knows that, but they don't have forever and she's about to push him when he looks at her and speaks again. "Did you get anything on who her source is?"

"Of course not, no reporter worth their salt reveals a source, you know that as well as I do," she says, with a heavy sigh.

"This is Nina fucking Howard we're talking about, she's no reporter," he says, dropping his hand from his forehead and crossing his arms in front of him, rocking back slightly on his heels. "She's barely one step up from those people posting comments on the internet on why they think a celebrity's marriage is a bad idea, or why whatever her name is really shouldn't have worn those heels-"

"We need to tell Charlie." She stops him mid-rant, not because she doesn't agree with him, but because she has a feeling Nina will be working flat out right now to find a second source and they need to do something before she does.

"Now?" He shoves his hands into his pockets and looks suddenly afraid.

"Yes, now!" she says, pushing herself up from the desk, slightly too quickly, she thinks, given she's had nothing but coffee all day. A lot of coffee, but still just coffee.

"You okay?" He reaches for her and puts a hand on her shoulder, steadying her as she hears the concern in his voice even through the pounding in her ears. "Honey?"

"Yeah, sorry, I'm fine." She covers her hand with his and allows herself to lean into him just slightly. "I am, I promise. I'm just tired and I probably need to eat something. I'm okay."

"Alright, we go and see Charlie." His other hand moves to her waist, his hand warm through the cotton of her shirt. "And then you're going to eat something. Brunch, lunch, some shit from the vending machine, whatever."

"I'm _fine_ , but if it'll stop you freaking out, then alright," she says, smiling softly at him, trying to shift the stubborn frown from his face, sliding her hand into his, squeezing his fingers. "Let's go."

Millie waves them right into Charlie's office, as she always does when they show up together, seeming to sense that it usually means there's something that can't wait. He's standing looking out of the window and he turns when they walk in, a curious look on his face.

"I'm not going ask if everything's okay because..." He pauses, looking at her, then at Will and back at her. "Well, let's just say that neither of you should ever quit your jobs and consider professional poker playing. What's going on?"

"I got a call earlier today from Nina Howard at TMI," she says, wondering if there's any way she can sugar coat this, before she realises there's never any pulling the wool over Charlie's eyes. "She has a source who told her Will was high the night of the Bin Laden broadcast."

"Jesus, where the fuck does she find these people?" Charlie's eyebrows raise higher than she's ever seen them go before. "Come on, nobody is going to believe Will was high that night, that broadcast was seamless, it was-"

"It's true." Will cuts in, shuffling awkwardly beside her, his eyes on the floor. "At the party, before we got the call from the White House, someone brought cookies and...I mean, shit, of all the nights, it ends up being the one night I agree to a damn party. I didn't know we were going to have to go on air that night, and there was no way, no way I wasn't reporting that story, I-"

"You were high?" Charlie asks, not waiting for Will to finish, turning to her next. "And you? Were you face first in the cookie jar too? Please tell me that both my anchor and EP weren't completely baked."

"No!" she says, quickly. "I barely had a couple of glasses of wine, thank you very much. No, it was just this party animal here who couldn't resist."

"But you were on top form that night," Charlie says, clearly thrown by what they're telling him. "I mean, it was flawless. You were _high_?"

"Yeah, but hey, you just said the show was flawless, so..." Turning to her, Will shrugs faintly.

"You couldn't do your own tie, Mr Flawless," she says, shaking her head. "Don't get too carried away."

"So, she has a source." Charlie speaks up, looking at her. "And I'm guessing she's waiting for a second before she goes with it?"

"Yeah, that's what she said, and I got the impression she was going to try her absolute hardest to find one." She stops, something niggling at her, something in the back of her mind that she's sure she could pinpoint if she wasn't so damn tired, something Nina said...

"Mac?" Will's voice breaks into her daze and she realises what it is that's bugging her.

"The message," she says quickly, grabbing his arm, her fingers grasping his shirt. "Remind me again, what the message said, what did you say?"

"Really?" He looks unsure, embarrassed. "You want me to..."

"Not the love stuff, you idiot, I remember all of that." She smiles at him and he relaxes slightly. "You said something about the show, you complimented me, but I can't remember...what did you call me that night?"

"Spectacular," he says, without hesitation. "I said you were spectacular, but I don't-"

"It's a good word, and you're right, I was," she says with a smirk, before she starts thinking again about her conversation with Nina. "But it isn't a word you hear used all that often, right?"

"I guess not," he says, baffled.

"Where are you going with this, Mac?" Charlie asks, sensing she's figuring something out, watching her as she frowns.

"Nina used the word spectacular this morning and I didn't really think about it at the time, I was too busy denying that you were high," she says, turning back to Will. "I could be wrong, but I think maybe you left the message meant for me on Nina's phone,"

"Not a chance." He shakes his head, firm in what he's saying. "It was your phone, I know it was."

"Well, it clearly wasn't, backed up by the evidence that someone at TMI got the message and I never did." She turns fully to face him, her hands on her hips. "You see, this is what happens when you get wasted and leave messages on the wrong person's phone. Is she on speed dial next to me? Why is she even on your phone, why is-"

"She isn't on my fucking speed dial, and if she's on my damn phone at all it's only after the last fiasco of a bullshit story she tried to hit us with!" He raises his voice, in frustration rather than anger, she knows the difference all too well. "I know it was yours, I'm completely sure, because I..."

"What?" She steps back, watching as he appears to wrestle with telling her whatever it is. "Because you what?"

"Because I listened to your voicemail greeting twice, okay? Thats how I know," he says, his tone calm again as he explains. "I remember listening to it twice before I found the balls to actually leave the message, and because I...well, you know how I feel about your voice, surely? This can't possibly be a surprise to you."

"I think he's right, Mac." Charlie speaks up and they both turn to him.

"About my voice?" She's thoroughly confused now. She's tired, hungry and she's lost the thread here entirely. "What?"

"I don't think Will called Nina, or anyone else that night," he says, a slow smile starting to appear. "I think he absolutely left the message on your phone."

"Then why the hell didn't I get it?" she asks, glancing at Will before she turns back to face Charlie.

"Because someone got to it before you did." Charlie says, and recognition slowly begins to dawn on her. "And they deleted it."

"You're saying..." She pauses, her brain desperately trying to take everything in. "Somebody accessed my phone, listened to the message and then deleted it before I ever knew it existed?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying." Charlie nods, looking between her and Will. "Phone hacking. Someone hacked your phone, and that's why she's waiting for a second source. Nina's first source was you."

She can't think clearly as they head for the elevator, all she can think about is that someone hacked her phone. Someone listened to what Will said, to what he told her, and then made sure she would never hear it, and she's furious. If Charlie hadn't invited them both out for Fourth of July weekend, she might never found out about the message at all, Will would have been too embarrassed to ever have mentioned it, and...she can't think about what that could have meant. She feels his hand on the small of her back as they step into the elevator, the movement of his thumb soothing her somehow even through the blanket of her fury. He reaches for the button and she watches as he sends the elevator up rather than down, turning to him and raising her eyebrows.

"Will?" she asks, frowning at him.

"We're going up," he says, not explaining anything at all, frustrating her even more.

"Are we going to throw ourselves off the roof?" She sighs, waiting for him to clarify why they're going in the wrong direction. "Because that seems a little drastic."

"We're going to the dining room." He looks at her, almost as if he's daring her to protest. "I knew you were tired this morning, I should have made sure you ate breakfast, I-"

"I'm not a child, Will." She stops him, part irritated by his concern, part touched. "I should have stopped to eat something."

"But you didn't, which is why we're going to the executive dining room now," he says, his tone of finality making her smile even as she gears up to respond.

"We really don't need to do that," she says, as the elevator stops and she realises her argument at this stage is pointless. "I could have just grabbed something from one of the machines."

"We're here now." His hand moves again to her back and he ushers gently her out. "We can be in and out in twenty minutes, a half hour, maybe, okay?"

"Well, I _am_ hungry..." She smells something really good as they walk through the doors, and her stomach starts to rumble. "Okay."

They sit mostly in silence as they eat, Will with a sandwich, her with a salad. By the time she's halfway through she feels better, her head feels a bit clearer and she sits back, slowing down the pace at which she attacks the rest of the plate. She still feels angry but she can't figure out exactly who with, and she knows it's an anger rooted in worry, less for herself than for Will, who, as the face of the network, will have to be seen to be punished if this story does break. He asks if she's okay and she manages a tight smile, a brief nod before she turns back to her food.

As they step off the elevator, he tangles her fingers with his and squeezes, smiling at her as she heads towards her office. She works for a while, goes through what they have for the show so far, answers some emails, and picks up a message about a fitting for her wedding dress. She starts to doodle absently in her notepad, circles, bigger circles, more circles, before tearing off the page and throwing it across the desk. Instead of tackling what she should be working on, she starts a list, and even though she knows they plan to talk tomorrow, she finds herself taking it and heading for Will's office, bursting through the door and slamming it down in front of him.

"What..." He glances down at it and looks up at her. "What's this?"

"A list," she says, trying to assess if he's being deliberately dumb or if she has genuinely thrown him off balance.

"Yeah, I can see that, but..." He pauses, his eyes running over the list again. "This is...all the stuff you want us to talk about tomorrow?"

"Yes, except I can't seem to concentrate on what I actually should be doing right now, because all I can think about is the voicemail, and Nina fucking Howard, and the fact that if she runs this story, you're going to be out of a job, and quite possibly me too, and..." She stops and takes a deep breath, seeing the confusion in his eyes turn to concern. "I'm angry, and I'm not sure who with, but I think...we _can_ talk tomorrow, but I feel like maybe getting some this stuff off my chest now might help. Do you want to start?"

"I think you should start," he says, softly. "It's your list."

"It is, but what? You don't think we should talk?" She knows she's being unfair, but she can't seem to shake the urge to push him, to try and get the anger out that's simmering inside of her, threatening to boil over. "You don't think we should make peace with anything on that list?"

"I'm pretty sure I was the one who suggested we talk this weekend." He looks at her, not rising to her obvious bad mood, his eyes fixed on hers. "So yeah, I agree with you. I just didn't think you'd want to do it here."

"Seriously, Will," she says, riled by his calm. "If that's your way of wriggling out of it-" 

"Brian." He cuts in, reading the first item on her list, and she relaxes slightly, suddenly realising the tension she had been feeling at them not having talked. "I'm sorry for bringing him in to do the story, you know that, and I'm sorry I got into such a funk when it was published. I'm sorry too, for...when you told me, about, you know, I'm sorry I didn't let you explain. I wish I had, every damn day I wonder what would have happened if I'd just let you explain."

"Right." She doesn't know what else to say and she wonders the same, if he'd just listened, if she'd just explained herself better to begin with. "There's nothing I regret more than what happened with him, and that I told you the way I did, and...I never, ever wanted to hurt you. I'm sorry, so, so sorry."

"I know." He stands up and walks around the desk, closing the door behind her and moving to stand in front of her, picking the list up and skipping to the next thing on it. "Engagement ring? You have an engagement ring, you're wearing it, I can see it."

"They can see it from the International Space Station. That's not what I meant and you know it," she says, watching him squirm slightly. "When did you buy this ring? And please don't lie to me, Billy."

"When you had the team doing opposition research on me, I..." He stops, shakes his head and takes a step closer, lowering his voice. "I knew you'd find out about the talk show offer and would come in here telling me it was proof I never intended to marry you, but I did, I wanted to marry you right from the start, so yeah, I may have only bought the ring last year but it is the one you described and I bought it in your size deliberately-"

"That's what I thought." She stops him, feeling bad about how guilty he looks, because it doesn't really matter. It's her ring, she knows that. "It's fine. I just wanted to see if you'd tell me. You know what, you're right we should do this at home. I'm sorry, I just needed to, I don't know..."

"Can I ask something?" He drops the list back onto the desk and rests his hands on her shoulders, going on when she nods warily. "Why isn't having kids on the list?"

"What do you mean?" she asks, but her stomach lurches because she knows this is the big one and she doesn't want to cover it here, but she started this so she's stuck with it.

"Every time I bring it up you change the subject," his voice is low, and she knows if she could look up and meet his eyes, they would be soft and full of concern. "Don't you think that's something we should discuss, since you're bent on us hashing out all this other dumb crap?"

"Dumb crap?" She does look up at him and he winces, apparently realising his poor choice of words. "You think bringing Brian into the newsroom to basically torture me was nothing more than dumb crap?!"

"I didn't mean that," he says, quickly, tightening his hold on her, just a fraction. "Bad choice of phrase is all, I swear."

"Alright." She lets out a breath as she nods. "Fine."

"You always wanted kids, Mac, and I assumed you still did but you can't think I haven't noticed that every time I raise the subject you change it, and I have no idea why." He pauses and she bites her lip, remembering their conversation years ago about having a family, and wondering now just how to tell him what has changed. "Want to expand on that one?"

"I don't think I've been avoiding the subject." Even as she says it, she's aware of her own lie, yet can't seem to bring herself to tell him the truth. "Maybe I changed my mind, maybe it isn't what I want any more."

"Bullshit," he says quickly, shaking his head. "I know that's not it, I saw how you were with Ned at Charlie's place, and you think I don't see the way you look at babies when we pass them on the street? I do, and I know you want that too, and I don't get why-"

"I was told by the doctors after the stabbing that it was unlikely I'd ever be able to get pregnant. I mean, really unlikely, like a five percent chance at best..." She can't stop now she's started, she needs to just get it out and wait for him to react. "I wanted to tell you, and I was going to tell you, but then you said a couple of things that made me realise that you do want a family, and I didn't know how to tell you that I probably can't give you that. Not anymore."

"Honey..." It's only when he moves his hands to her face that she realises she's crying, and she tries to swipe angrily at her tears, stopping when his thumbs slide tenderly across her cheekbones.

"I'm sorry," she says, hearing the catch in her voice, but pushing on regardless. "I didn't...I...if you need to think about this, about what this means for you, for us, I guess, then I would absolutely understand that, and-"

"What?" He sounds completely incredulous and she bites her lip as she looks up at him. "I just meant that if you wanted to, I..." She stops because the lump in her throat makes it impossible to go on, and she's only vaguely aware of his arms sliding around her and pulling her towards him.

"Stop it, please," he murmurs into her hair and she feels herself clinging onto him, her fingers curled desperately into his shirt. "I love you, Mackenzie, and that's it."

She takes several deep breaths as she stays pressed into his chest, overwhelmed by having said it out loud, as though it somehow wasn't true before but now it's a fact they absolutely can't escape. His hands move down her back, in slow, soothing strokes and she feels sad all over again that they can't have what they want, what they could have once had, because of what she did. She knows she made a mistake, she knows she did wrong, but still, this feels like an excessive punishment.

There's a tentative knock on the door and she pushes herself back, feels his arms drop from where they were holding on to her. She wipes her face, swallows hard and turns towards the door, hoping her face doesn't look as bad as she fears it does as her eyes meet Maggie's, whose concerned expression shifts from her to Will before she manages to school it into a smile.

"Sorry to, um, disturb you, but, um..." She makes her smile a little brighter as she continues. "We were wondering if we should go ahead and start the rundown or if you guys were headed in? I mean, you know, whichever is fine, but if I could just let Jim know, that'd be-"

"We'll be right there." She manages a shaky smile in Maggie's direction and watches her nod and back out of the door before turning back to Will. "Shit, I didn't realise the time. I should just...bathroom. I'll be two minutes."

Reaching down he takes her hand and squeezes it, his eyes fixed on her, his thumb running across hers. He watches her closely and she wonders what he's thinking, if he's thinking the same as she is, that they'd probably have had a couple of kids by now if she hadn't...no, she can't go down that path, she just can't. Giving his hand a final squeeze, she lets go and heads for the bathroom.

*

It took some persuasion but she finally managed to convince him that going out for just a couple of drinks with the staff was the right thing to do. The two of them appearing at the afternoon rundown looking decidedly rattled made sure they all knew something was up, and after giving them all a brief overview that there was a story being threatened about Will but that the source was questionable, nobody looked any less worried. So here they are, three (or is it four?) drinks down, in a show of bravado for the benefit of the team...and if she's honest with herself, they're here too because she really, _really_ just wanted a drink. She looks around the table, smiling at Jim when he looks at her with concern, watching Neal and Maggie talking animatedly about something, and finally turning to Will, sitting beside her.

"I want to go home," she says, nudging his thigh with hers, smiling when he turns to her and leans in closer.

"Huh?" She doesn't know if she's talking really quietly, if the music is really loud, or of he just didn't catch what he said, but she repeats herself and he nods, sliding his hand onto her knee and squeezing gently before he stands up and takes her hand.

"And I think..." She sways slightly as she stands, thinking it probably was four drinks, not three, but whatever. "I'm tired so I think maybe no sex in the middle of the night tonight, okay?"

She sees Jim look away and she hears a snort coming from someone, Tess probably, and realises she isn't talking quietly at all, quite the opposite.

"Okay." He looks at her, smiling as he shakes his head, embarrassed. "Shall we get these guys one more drink before we leave?"

"Sounds good," she says, letting him lead her across the room to the bar and sliding herself against his side as he orders one more round and asks to close out his tab.

"Are you ready to drop?" He puts an arm around her waist and pulls her closer.

"I'm close." She shrugs, watching his eyes roam across her face, flicking to her mouth when she licks her lips, and back up again. "I'm sorry I was so horrible to you this afternoon."

"Hey," he says, his fingers dancing lightly over her hip. "It's just been a shitty fucking day, honey, that's all."

"And I'm sorry that we probably can't have a baby," she says, her heart sinking again as she thinks about it. "I'm really sorry about that one, if I'd just-"

"Mackenzie." His hand moves from her waist to cup her face gently and she sighs at the look of adoration on his face. "I have you, and you're...you're fucking _everything_. But if you want a baby, we'll try whatever we have to, we'll see whoever we need to, exhaust all possible options. Okay?"

She nods and leans up and kisses him, loving him for wanting to make her happy, wishing it was a simple case of if you want something badly enough, it will happen. He turns to pay the bartender and she leans against him, closing her eyes. For now, she just wants to go home.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"Do you feel okay this morning?" he asks, his voice low, his thumb stroking across hers. "Five Martinis isn't...insignificant."_
> 
> _"I feel perfectly fine, thank you." She knows she sounds defensive and she tries to smile at him. "What is this, Will? A lecture about how much I had to drink last night? I didn't realise you were counting. Maybe you should've let me know when I hit the perceived limit."_

Opening her eyes, she sees him standing beside the bed and she smiles, pulling back the sheet and crooking her finger, directing him back into bed.

"Do I smell coffee?" she asks, rubbing the corner of her eye that seems to have decided to stay asleep. He nods and she grins. "I love you."

"You slept better last night," he says as he sits down, takes her hand and laces his fingers through hers. "I woke up a couple of times and you were sound asleep."

"Mmm, I did." She nods and her gaze shifts to their joined hands, his so much bigger than hers, his touch warm and comforting. "The four Martinis I had last night probably helped with that."

"I think it was five." He frowns and looks like he's about to say something else but doesn't.

"Really?" She isn't sure, maybe it was five, maybe that's why she felt a little bit more tipsy than she realised when they left to come home. "Four, five, same difference."

"Do you feel okay this morning?" he asks, his voice low, his thumb stroking across hers. "Five Martinis isn't...insignificant."

"I feel perfectly fine, thank you." She knows she sounds defensive and she tries to smile at him. "What is this, Will? A lecture about how much I had to drink last night? I didn't realise you were counting. Maybe you should've let me know when I hit the perceived limit."

"I wasn't, it's not like that." He pauses and she refuses to look away, determined not to feel guilty about having a few drinks with her staff at the end of a long day. "It's just...you'd tell me if it was a problem, right?"

"A problem? What the hell?" She frowns at him and sees the worry in his eyes. "You may have noticed that yesterday wasn't exactly a great day, I just really needed a few drinks last night, that's all."

"That's what worries me," he says quietly, refusing to let go when she tries to pull her hand from his.

"Well, you don't have anything to worry about," she says, trying again to pull her hand back but giving up the attempt when he closes his other hand over hers. "Not to mention that this is a bit rich coming from the man who thinks an Ambien with a whiskey chaser is a suitable late night snack."

"I don't do that any more..." He lifts her hand and kisses her knuckles, so slowly and so softly that her eyes fill with unexpected tears as the reason for his concern starts to dawn on her. "But yeah, fair point."

"Charlie said something, didn't he?" she asks, all traces of her earlier defensiveness gone as she thinks back to the day Charlie offered her the job, how he found her drinking at eleven on a Monday morning and acknowledged it was far from an ideal situation but made no judgement.

"Yeah," he says, with a nod. "We were talking about the apartment, I was telling him we'd put in an offer and were hoping to move in right after the wedding, and it seemed to trigger something, a memory, I'm not sure what. Anyway, he told me where you were when he came to DC, and that he'd been worried-"

"Worried that he'd made a terrible decision in offering me the job?" She cuts in, biting her lip, struggling to believe the day Will is talking about was a mere sixteen months ago when it feels like another lifetime. "That he'd set his sights on the EP who he thought might be able to mend his broken anchor, only to find her a total mess, smashed at a bowling alley, wearing sweatpants and a scowl."

"No, not at all. He said you were beautiful and smart and in need of a break. Fragile, yeah, but beautiful and strong, with a fire behind your eyes that just needed to be reignited." He slides a hand from hers and runs his thumb across her bottom lip, smoothing over where her teeth just were. "He was worried about me, that I was going to refuse to accept that he'd made the absolute _right_ decision, and that I'd end up driving you away. You know, he said he saw a lot of himself in you that day."

"Really?" She's surprised because she has always thought it's Will he sees shades of himself in, not her.

"Your perfectionism, your passion for doing the right thing, for reporting the right things," he says, pausing as she shifts closer to him and rests a hand on his chest. "Your all or nothing way of doing things, your-"

"My teetering on the brink of an alcohol problem?" She finishes his sentence, even though she's certain that's not what he was about to say, but he raised the subject, they were planning to talk today anyway, so she may as well go on. "I think maybe I was, or I could have been, heading that way. Things after I got back from the Middle East were pretty bleak, Billy, I'm not going to lie, and yeah, for a little while, drinking helped with that, it blocked out the complete despair. You know, until one day it didn't. The day my dad called, actually, and very pointedly told me he'd call me back when I was a little more sober. I looked at the clock and realised it wasn't even noon, and I thought fuck, I need to get a grip on this. That was two days before Charlie found me at the bowling alley and basically gave me a reason to stop, and to wash my hair again."

"Shit, honey, I don't think he knew it had gotten quite to that point." He gently cups her face and looks at her, his expression full of regret and sadness.

"I know. No woman should ever reach a point where she doesn't remember the last time she washed their hair." She tries to make light of it, aiming for a smile, but she can't do it. Closing her eyes, she reminds herself to breathe, focusing on the sensation of his thumb moving softly across her cheekbone. "I didn't know this at the time, but I did a lot of reading later, and it's actually pretty common for people with PTSD to end up with drinking problems."

"I know that," he says, watching as her eyes widen slightly in curiosity. "I've been doing some reading too, and I guess that's why...you know."

"That's why last night worried you?" Again, he has managed to surprise her, quietly doing his homework so he can make sure she's okay.

"Yeah." He gives an embarrassed shrug as he goes on. "I overreacted, right?"

"A little," she says, pausing to lean in and kiss him. "But with good intentions, so I'll forgive you."

"Glad to hear it." He follows her kiss with another, smiling as she rubs her nose playfully against his. "Agenda item one, check. How about a coffee?"

"Mmm." She sighs as the smell of the coffee reaches her again. "I'd love one."

She smiles and rolls onto her back, stretching her arms above her head, watching his eyes jump to her stomach, to the patch of skin on show as her short t-shirt slips higher. His hand moves over to her and his fingers dance lightly down her abdomen and across her hipbone, his touch so soft it stops just shy of ticklish, but the sensation is just enough to cause a low moan to escape her lips. He rolls suddenly and she giggles as his mouth lands on her stomach and his tongue swipes quickly around her belly button before he pulls back and grins at her.

"Would madam like her coffee in bed?" he asks with a smirk.

"Madam would like her coffee in the kitchen while she watches her rather handsome fiancé cook breakfast," she says, sitting up and kicking the sheet off her legs, knowing where his gaze will land, smiling as he proves her right as his eyes shift right to her thighs.

"Madam's fiancé is happy to oblige." He stands up and she follows, taking his outstretched hand.

"I know I got a bit... _tetchy_ earlier, but..." She stops as they move into the hall and he turns to her waiting for her to continue. "I just...I do want you to tell me if you're worried, and it's not going to, but I promise if it does ever become a problem, I'll talk to you. Okay?"

"Definitely," he says, pulling her to him and holding her so tight to his chest she thinks she can feel his heart beating against hers. "More than okay."

*

Most of the talking comes surprisingly easily, the fundamental things having mostly been dealt with already. They have already agreed on the apartment and it will be theirs in a matter of weeks, the wedding was set almost the very day they got back together, her dress is underway, and he let her draw up the guest list and simply nodded in agreement. Over breakfast they decide they need no more discussion about why things ended the first time other than to concede to a lack of communication and a vow to talk about everything this time around. They move to the couch, coffee on the table in front of them, and she grins as he pulls her legs across his lap and gently strokes her feet.

"There _is_ something I'm curious about," she says, watching his hand on her foot, his finger running slowly up her big toe.

"What's that?" His hands stop moving and he looks over at her.

"I don't want to talk about Brian, or the damn story, we've gone over it and...whatever." She pauses and lets out a long sigh. "I do wonder though what made you bring him in. I thought we'd got to a point where things were better, the show was going well, we seemed more comfortable working together, and the next thing I know you picked the worst person imaginable to come in and do the story. I just don't understand what I did to make you suddenly want to punish me all over again."

"You didn't...the message, it was the message," he says, his hand moving higher to rest at her ankle. "I'd left the message, told you I loved you, I thought you still loved me, and then I got nothing from you, total silence, so I..."

"I hurt you by not responding, you hurt me with Brian." She nods, understanding now why he did it and feeling herself getting angry all over again about the message never reaching her. "But I never got it."

"You never got it." He shakes his head and watches her, a sadness on his face that she thinks is likely mirrored on her own. "When we find out who hacked your phone, I swear to God..."

"You know what, it doesn't matter," she says, shaking her head, pushing away her anger and reminding herself that they're together now and everything is how it should be. "I mean, it mattered at the time, it hurt like hell, if I'm honest. Side by side comparison though, Will, seriously?"

"Yeah, I don't know what the fuck I was thinking..." He pauses, watching her as she remembers the confusion she felt over finding out he'd chosen Brian to write the story, dreading being in a room with him again, her stomach churning as she prepared for him to humiliate her and make her feel small, just as he always had.

"I had the side by side comparison six years ago." Her voice is quiet but firm as she continues. "And I chose you, no question. Yes, I was a fucking idiot briefly, but then I fell in love with you and there was never any contest. I chose you, I'm always going to choose you."

"I know," he says, squeezing her ankle softly until she looks at him. "I'm sorry, it was a real asshole move."

"Yes, it was." She can't disagree with him, but it's a little easier to understand now in the context of knowing about the message, so she smiles at him and wiggles her toes under his arm until he smiles back.

"I have something." He leans back against the couch and looks at her. 

"Okay," she says, nodding at him to go ahead.

"I think we should talk about having a baby," he says, smiling tentatively at her. "I think we should see a doctor, talk about our chances, see what they say."

"I know what the chances are." She sighs sadly and tries to smile at him being so supportive and encouraging, but he seems not to have grasped just how unlikely it is to happen. "Slim to none, those are the chances, and I'm not sure I see the point in getting our hopes up for something that's probably never going to happen."

"Unlikely, you said. That's what they told you, right?" he asks, and she nods. "That's not the same as impossible, and maybe if we went to see a doctor they could tell us how to maximise our chances or something. I mean, hell, if it's something you want now we could just start trying anyway."

"We kind of..." She stops, realising she should have told him this before now, instead of just going with her belief that it couldn't happen anyway so it didn't really matter. "We're not exactly _not_ trying. I mean, I'm not taking anything, I don't-"

"Hang on," he says, and she can't read his tone so she has no idea where he's going to land on this, if he's likely to be fine with it or furious. "Back up...at Charlie's, when I asked if we needed anything and you said no, you weren't telling me you were on birth control, you were basically saying, or _not_ saying, that we didn't need anything because you've convinced yourself you can't get pregnant anyway?"

"No," she answers and then realises that's not right, but she's flustered and thinking about what she said, and what she really should have said. "I mean, yes, that's what I was saying, and I stand by that. I hadn't just got it into my head that I can't get pregnant, I've been told as much. Not only do the doctors think it's unlikely, but do you know how much more difficult it is for a woman to get pregnant after the age of thirty five anyway?"

"I have no idea." He shakes his head and she still can't tell if he's angry or just surprised, despite having always been able to read him so well. "So, for the last month we've been using no protection at all? That's what you're saying?"

"That's what I'm saying," she says quietly, feeling suddenly guilty at making the assumption that he'd be okay with this. She hadn't expected that he'd see a tiny likelihood, probably five percent at best she was told, as a glimmer of hope where she sees only a void of darkness.

"So, are you also saying that since the...since you were stabbed..." He pauses, as he always does whenever he refers to it, it's the one thing he can't brush off, won't brush off. "You've been just playing it fast and loose with all the men you've slept with, because you've convinced yourself it's impossible?"

"First off, _all_ the men?" She glares at him, understanding that he might be wondering why she didn't tell him, but feeling his sharp tone like a punch to the gut. "Just because you were screwing one half of the population of New York, please don't assume I was doing the same with the other half. Desperate revenge sex really isn't my style, and anyway-"

"Mac..." He starts to speak and she thinks he's regretting what he said, but she holds up a hand and he stops again.

"And no, actually, with the infinitesimal number of men I did sleep with, I was absolutely fastidious about contraception, because funnily enough I don't want a baby with anyone but you," she says, watching as his expression softens and feeling his hand again on her leg. "I've never wanted a baby with anyone but you, although I'm starting to question that right now, to be honest- "

"I'm sorry." He lifts her legs out of his lap and shifts closer to her, repeating his words. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that, I really didn't, I was just...when I asked, the first time at Charlie's, why didn't you say?"

"I don't know," she says. "No, I do. I do know. I didn't want to lay all this shit on you and totally ruin the mood, and I didn't want...well, God this sounds ridiculous, but I didn't want to use a condom, not with you, so I thought if I just said we were fine, you wouldn't question it. And you didn't, and then when we got home I kept thinking maybe I should see the doctor, get myself on something, but then I figured there was such a tiny chance of me getting pregnant anyway that I didn't want to jinx it by trying not to, and I thought that if by some miracle it did happen you'd be okay with it, and-"

"I would." He stops her and slides his hands into her hair so she has no choice but to look at him. "I would, I'd be totally okay with it. I guess I just assumed, I don't know, I was surprised, that's all. No, honey, if it happened tomorrow I would be more than fine with it, I promise."

"I'm sorry." She sighs, still feeling bad for having misled him, not lying as such but allowing him to make the obvious assumption and not even considering correcting him. "I should have been honest, if not at Charlie's then definitely when we got back, but I think seeing you with Ned and hearing you say a couple of things that made me pretty sure it was what you wanted, and I just thought..."

"It's alright," he says, smiling at her. "I just want you to be happy, Mackenzie, and if a baby would make you happy...well, if it happens then I'd be so totally okay with it, honey, I swear. But if it doesn't, it won't change how I feel about you, not for a second. Nothing would."

*

"Hon? It's your mom on Skype, shall I grab it?" She's just finishing in the bathroom when she hears him call her. Her mother usually has terrible timing and calls just as they're about to walk out of the door, or are about to eat, or on one occasion, just as they were about to have sex, but today she's timed it perfectly.

"Yes please," she calls back, reaching for the towel to dry her hands. "I'll be right there."

She hears her mother's voice as she walks back into the living room and her obvious fondness for Will clear in her tone makes her smile. Will asks her if she's done something different with her hair and she hears the smile in her mother's response even before she can see her on the screen.

"Hello, darling!" Penny grins as she sees her sitting down beside Will. "Good lord, are neither of you dressed yet?"

"Nope," she answers, her grin matching her mother's. "It's Saturday, and we've had a really long week so we're having a pyjama day."

"Oh dear..." Penny pauses slightly. "Everything's alright, I hope?"

"Everything's fine, Mum." She glances quickly at Will, a silent agreement formed to say nothing about the possible phone hacking for now, and he runs his hand down her thigh before it settles on her knee. "How are you?"

"Marvellous, thank you, darling." Her mother nods, smiling widely, and she realises Will wasn't just laying on the charm, it actually does seem that Penny has done something new with her hair. "Your father will be here shortly, he's just feeding the dogs, I think. We can't chat too long, your brother and Sheila are in town this weekend so we're going out for dinner with them."

"That sounds nice," she says, reaching for the glass of water she left beside the laptop, smiling at her mother. "Your hair looks nice, Mum."

"Thank you, I am rather pleased with it," Penny replies. "Darling, I wanted to ask what date you think your final dress fitting might be? We're about to book flights and I'd really like to go along with you, if you'd be happy with that."

"I'd love you to come with me." She nods, pausing as she takes a quick drink and puts the glass back down again. "I was hoping you'd be able to. I'm picking up my shoes on Thursday and I have a fitting on Friday, and then I was thinking the Monday before the wedding might be good for a final one? That way if she does need to do anything with it, she has a few days before we leave on Thursday. Does that sound like it might work for you in terms of dates?"

"We'll make it work, sweetheart." Penny half shifts out of shot and reappears with her diary in her hand. "If we were to arrive Saturday, we could take you both out to dinner that evening to catch up properly before the insanity begins, and then I'd be there to help with anything you need on Sunday. We can make sure we usher Will and your father out of the way. No offence, Will."

"None taken." Will grins at her. "I'd be totally fine with hanging out with your husband."

"The feeling is entirely mutual, Will." Robert appears and sits down next to his wife. "Admittedly, I don't have a baldy notion what you're talking about, but if it involves a Sunday drink or two with my future son-in-law then I shan't complain."

"Good, that's all sorted then." She smiles at her father. "Mum can fill you in on dates, Daddy. Is everything alright with you?"

"Splendid, Mackie, yes." He nods and smiles back at her. "Although I really ought to go and change. We're off out with your brother shortly, he's in town this weekend."

"Mum said. He's alright?" she asks, realising she doesn't talk to her brother anywhere near as much as she does her sisters, and making a mental note to at least drop him an email this week. "And Sheila?"

"Both very well indeed." Robert says, glancing at what she assumes is the clock at the bottom of the screen and nudging Penny slightly. "We really should look lively, Pen. We don't want to be late."

"Yes, go," she says, watching as her mother rolls her eyes slightly at her father's military attitude to timekeeping. "We'll talk soon. Have fun and give my love to them both this evening."

"Will do, sweetheart." Penny smiles at them both. "Enjoy the rest of your pyjama day...although what you're wearing, Mackenzie, appears to be barely more than underwear."

"It's August, Mum." She shakes her head, smiling at her mother's comment. "I'd boil in actual pyjamas."

"I suppose that's true," her mother says with a grin. "And I'm sure your fiancé there doesn't object, do you, Will?"

"You don't have to answer that." She laughs and looks at him before turning back to the screen. "Talk to you soon, Mum, okay?"

"Alright, darling. Love to you both." Her mother blows them a kiss, something that always makes Will grin, today being no exception.

"You too," she says, watching her father's obvious impatience at his wife's refusal to move more quickly. "Bye, Daddy."

"Bye bye, petal." He says with a soft smile. "Enjoy the rest of your day."

The call ends and she suspects her father was responsible, making sure her mother didn't think of something else she wanted to say. It's always a source of amusement for her and her siblings, how their parents are such polar opposites when it comes to timekeeping that it's nothing short of miraculous that they manage to arrive anywhere at the same time. Although maybe her father's tendency to be frighteningly early, combined with her mother's fierce devotion to lateness means they end up right on time. Whatever the formula, it works and has been working for more than forty years. She reaches for Will's hand, squeezing tightly as she thinks if their marriage is even half as happy as her parents', they'll be fine.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _No woman expects a four inch heel to feel like a squishy flip flop, but when the shoes cost...well, enough, they can be expected to be bearable, and based on how they feel right now she thinks they'll be fine. Plus, they're beautiful and she finds herself smiling at her own feet as she looks down._

He's in shorts and a t-shirt by the time she heads into the living room, his legs stretched out, bare feet crossed on the coffee table. Flicking through the channels, he doesn't seem to hear the noise of her heels as she walks into the kitchen, if he did she knows he'd turn and wonder why she hadn't changed out of them.

"I'm going to make tea." She raises her voice slightly but he mutes the TV so she doesn't need to. "Do you want anything?"

"Nah, I'm good, thanks." He puts the remote down on the table and shifts so he can see her from the couch.

"Charlie seemed pretty sure that was it with the phone hacking, right?" she asks, reaching for a mug and dropping a tea bag into it. "Case closed."

"Yeah, pretty much," he says, the relief in his voice quite clear. "He's meeting again with Leona tomorrow but she's so furious with Reese that me being high has paled into almost nothing."

"Thank God," she says, smiling at him before turning back to her water, and walking across the kitchen and back when she sees it isn't quite boiled.

No woman expects a four inch heel to feel like a squishy flip flop, but when the shoes cost...well, _enough_ , they can be expected to be bearable, and based on how they feel right now she thinks they'll be fine. Plus, they're beautiful and she finds herself smiling at her own feet as she looks down. Pouring the water, she scoops out the tea bag, squeezing it almost dry and crossing the kitchen to dump it out.

"What do you think?" She stands where she knows he can see her if he turns, which he does at the sound of her voice.

"What do I think of...whoa!" He stops and she watches his eyes travel the length of her legs, having deliberately put nothing on with the shoes but panties and a tank top. "Jesus, Mac."

"Well?" She steps forward slightly, hands on her hips, pushing one leg just in front of the other. "You like them?"

"I love them," he says slowly, nodding as his eyes finally move back up to meet hers. "Always have."

"The shoes, Will." Moving out of the kitchen, her tea forgotten for the moment, she stands at the end of the couch, holding onto the back as she raises one leg up and rests it on the cushion beside him. "Do you like the shoes?"

"Oh." He swallows hard and she bites back a grin, knowing what she's doing to him and enjoying every second of it. "Yeah, they're nice, sure."

"Nice?" She points her toe, bending slightly so that her cleavage is almost as close to his face as her foot is. "These shoes are not _nice_ , they're beautiful works of art. If I didn't love you quite so much, I swear to God I'd marry these shoes."

"They are...impressive," he says, running his hand across the shoe and then slowly up her leg as he moves closer, his fingers trailing up her calf and behind her knee.

Lifting her leg from the couch she grins at his pout as she steps back and reaches for his hand. She receives no protest from him and she pulls him to his feet before dropping his hand again and turning around, glancing back at him over her shoulder.

"And from the back?" She bites her lip and watches as his gaze again roams across her body, down her back and her legs, his eyes wide.

"Fuck, Mackenzie, what the hell are you trying to do to me?" His voice is low, his hand seems to be reaching for her all of its own accord, eventually landing on the back of her thigh, and he claims a small victory when she shudders slightly under his touch.

"I'm just trying to see if my wedding shoes have your approval, honey." Spinning around to face him again, she sighs faintly. "Will you do something for me?"

"Anything." His answer is instant, there isn't even a millisecond of hesitation, and she wonders if she should dress like this next time she has something she refuses to move from the A block.

"Shove me up against that wall," she says, gesturing to the corner between the kitchen and the living room.

"What?" He blinks at her, apparently struck somewhat dumb by her request.

"Shove me..." Reaching forward, she grips his t-shirt and pulls him with her. "Against the wall."

"Yeah, alright..." His eyes are dark and she bites her lip again and he backs her up until she hits the wall with a slight thud.

"Good," she murmurs, feeling his warm breath on her cheek as his hands come to rest on the wall on either side of her head. "I need to make sure the heel is the right height."

"The right height?" Something seems to kick in to break his slight daze and he runs a thumb slowly across her bottom lip. "The right height for what?"

"Well, as part of my incredibly thorough wedding planning..." Pausing, she kisses him, slowly and deeply, pushing her tongue against his as she feels his hand slide under her tank top and his hips push against hers. "I considered the possibility that I might want you to do me in my wedding dress, but in the interests of not creasing the hell out of it, we'd have to do it standing up."

"I like that you're considering all possible eventualities," he murmurs softly against her lips and she feels him smile.

"Mmm, I thought you might appreciate that." She pulls back slightly and smirks as he pushes further against her and she feels just how much he's appreciating it. "So...if these shoes are the right height, we'll be fine."

"This is why I love you, Mackenzie." He kisses her hard as his hand continues its movement under her top, sliding higher until his thumb swipes across her nipple.

"Because I'm wearing nothing but a tank, lace knickers and a pair of killer heels?" She moans as his thumb repeats its movement and her nipple hardens further under his touch.

"That, yeah..." He pauses when she kisses him, groaning as he grinds his hips into hers and flattens his palm against her breast. "And the way you're planning this wedding right down to the tiniest detail."

"Well, there's _nothing_ tiny about this," she says, slipping her hand down into his shorts, her eyes never leaving his. "You never need to worry about that."

"You know..." He pauses when she takes him in her hand, clearly unable to think for a second as she starts to stroke him slowly, managing to clumsily pull his shorts down with her other hand, waiting for him to step out of them. "Since we're here anyway, I think it might be a good idea to do a practice run."

"Couldn't agree more," she says, her breath hitching as he slides his hand out from under her top and pulls down her panties. Leaning on his shoulders, she frees one leg and really doesn't care that she has wound up with her underwear hanging from one ankle. "We need to make sure these shoes are up to the task, right?"

"Yeah." He groans again as she strokes faster, feeling him get harder in her hand as he moves his hand between her legs and slides his fingers through her wetness. "Something like that."

She kisses him, nibbling lightly on his bottom lip, biting a little harder when he slides two fingers into her in one fluid motion, pulling her lips from his entirely when he starts to move them deeper inside her. His mouth comes to rest against the side of her neck and she smiles as his teeth scrape across her skin, followed immediately by the soothing warmth of his tongue. Her arms move around his neck and she clings to him, feeling how hard he is against her as his fingers curl slightly inside her and she moans.

"Thumb, Billy, your thumb." She barely manages to get the words out but he knows what she needs and his thumb joins his fingers in driving her crazy, his fingers still curling, his thumb moving in small circles until she thinks she might scream.

Her grasp on him tightens and her fingers grip his shoulders, her nails scratching faintly across his back. When he licks the side of her neck, a slow and deliberate stroke of his tongue, she comes with a sound something close to the scream she thought was imminent just a few seconds ago. Lifting her leg, she watches as he hooks his hand around her knee, holding her steady, and she blows a sticky strand of hair out of her face as she reaches down and pushes him inside her.

His hand clutches her thigh, his fingers digging into her flesh as he starts to move, the angle they're at allowing him to push so deep into her that she can barely breathe, and she can't think of anything other than how fucking good he feels. Lifting his head, he pushes her hair behind her ear and kisses her, lifting her leg higher as a moan escapes and rumbles through both of them. His mouth slides from hers to rest below her ear and she feels his teeth on her skin. When he dips his head lower and his teeth nibble against her neck, she pushes her fingers into his hair and tugs hard.

He speeds up and pushes her harder into the wall, starting up a steady thud that she wonders if the neighbours can hear, before she remembers they're moving out in a month and decides she doesn't really care. She takes his face in her hands and fixes her eyes on his, watching as he gazes at her, his eyes dark as his breath takes on the laboured sound she knows means he's close. Stroking her thumbs across his cheeks, she sees his focus slide as she squeezes her muscles around him.  
Leaning in, she runs her tongue slowly over his top lip and murmurs his name as she slides her hands into his hair again and pulls back to look into his eyes. He blinks hard and closes his eyes for a few seconds, groaning as he lets himself go, coming into her with one final push as his eyes open to meet hers.

"Oh my God," she says once she has her breath back. "I should test out new shoes more often."

"I wouldn't object." He grins, his voice deep and low, sending a flutter deep through her belly. "I'd say this pair passed the test...perfect height."

"Mmm." She grins back at him. "It's almost like I measured the shoes I know I was wearing last time we did this and then bought a pair _exactly_ the same height."

"So you just wanted to..." He moves his hand from her leg and slips slowly out of her, running his fingers down her thigh as she rests her foot back on the floor.

"I just wanted you to do me against the wall?" She smirks and takes hold of his hand, tangling her fingers in his. "Pretty much."

*

She slips the shoes on, taking a moment to gaze lovingly at them once again, pausing as she thinks about last night, smiling at the memory, the slight ache in her thighs reminding her of how good it was. Turning, she takes a deep breath and looks into the mirror. Blinking back unexpected tears, she steps closer and runs her hands slowly down the bodice of the dress, the fabric skimming her hips, the neckline not too low but low enough to flatter her curves, the soft skirt falling to her feet. She's in her wedding dress, finally. In three weeks she's going to be Will's wife, and the thought almost overwhelms her entirely and she finds herself having to reach up and wipe her eyes.  
Maybe if she gets this out of the way now, she'll manage to hold it together on the day...yeah, or maybe not. Pulling back the curtain, she steps out of the dressing room, smiling nervously at Sloan.

"Kenzie..." Dropping her phone into her bag, Sloan stands up. "Oh my God."

"Oh my God good, or oh my God awful?" she asks, suddenly self-conscious as she stands there with the seamstress smiling at her from the corner of the room and a wide-eyed Sloan standing in front of her.

"Oh my God _beautiful_ , just..." Sloan pauses and motions at her to turn around which she does, knowing the detail down the back of the dress is just as pretty as the front, and Sloan's intake of breath proves it. "It's perfect, you look...well, you look exactly like a bride should look. I mean, Will could turn up in jeans and I doubt anyone would notice."

"Don't you dare tell him that," she says with a smile. "I'd notice and I'd kill him."

"Seeing you in that dress might just kill him." Sloan smirks and goes on. "In a good way, I guess. If you can be killed in a good way? I really don't know what I'm saying other than fuck, Kenzie, you look amazing."

"Thank you." She turns to the mirror again and lifts her hair up off her neck, tilting her head slightly before looking back at Sloan. "I wish my hair was just a little bit longer. I think it would look better up with this dress, don't you?"

"The hairdresser will be able to put it up if that's what you want." Sloan she steps closer and narrows her eyes slightly as she glances down from her hair to her neck. "It's a good thing the wedding isn't today though."

"What?" she asks, confused by the smirk appearing on Sloan's face.

"Whoever is doing your make up would have their work cut out for them today, that's all." Sloan taps on the side of her own neck and raises her eyebrows.

"Oh, God." Letting her hair fall loose again, she reaches up and runs her finger over what she realises Sloan is referring to, the bruise on the side of her neck that she noticed this morning and told Will off for inflicting. A half-hearted telling off since he was sporting some scratches down his back that she can claim responsibility for, but at least his are safely hidden under his shirt.

"Is that what was coming out of your mouth when he was doing that?" Sloan's smirk is broader than ever. "Oh, God, oh, Billy-"

"Okay, we really need to get moving." She stops her, looking at the clock on the wall and removing her shoes for the seamstress to help with the bodice of the dress, as she studiously avoids meeting Sloan's eyes.

"It's funny," Sloan says as they head down and back out on to the street and she steers them towards a Starbucks.

"What's funny?" She checks her phone as they wait to cross the street before sliding it back into her bag and looking at Sloan.

"I wouldn't think of Will as a wild one." Sloan scrunches up her nose and shakes her head. "I mean, shit, not that I think about him in that way at all obviously. I just meant that if someone took, like, a poll or something that asked 'Is Will McAvoy a biter? Is he wild between the sheets?' I'd probably have checked no."

"Well, there you go, making the assumption that we made it to the bed at all last night," she smirks, deciding two can play at this game, and Sloan's inability to move when the light changes for them to cross the street makes it worth the effort. "Sloan, come on!"

They step into Starbucks and join the short line. Her eyes flick to the pastries and she feels Sloan's eyes on her, she can sense that she's itching to say more, and as cruel as it may be, she's quite enjoying it. There's a cinnamon swirl that looks so appealing she actually sighs, grinning when Sloan raises an eyebrow.

"God, I really want that cinnamon swirl," she says as they move along the counter. "But I absolutely should not be eating pastries when I have a wedding dress that I'd still like to fit into in three weeks."

"Sounds to me like you're getting enough exercise that one cinnamon swirl won't do too much damage." Sloan's smirk slides firmly back into place. "Get one, I'll get a muffin and we'll just walk back to work really quickly."

They order and decide to sit down, figuring they can take ten more minutes out without it making much difference. She takes a sip from her cup followed by a bite of her pastry.

"So worth it." She sighs and Sloan grins at her. "If I have to breathe in the whole day, I can do it."

"So, if you didn't make it to bed..." Sloan's words trail off and she pops a piece of muffin in her mouth before leaning back and waiting for her to respond.

"I had to show Will my wedding shoes," she says, taking another sip of coffee and watching a look of impatience cross Sloan's face.

"Not an answer, Kenzie." Sloan rolls her eyes and shifts forward in her seat again.

"I'm not sure I recall there being a question." As she shrugs, she's aware that Sloan is craving more detail than she's giving her.

"I love you, Mackenzie McHale, but you are fucking evil." Sloan sighs and picks up her drink, removing the lid and aggressively stirring the foam as she looks across the table at her.

"I was breaking in the shoes, and I realised that I've never had a wedding day before and I started thinking about what a bride does if she wants her new husband to ravish the shit out of her while she's still in her dress." She pauses to take another drink, watching as Sloan's eyes follow her movement, trying not push her but clearly dying for the rest of the sentence. "I mean, I wouldn't want that gorgeous dress to end up all creased, so we're going to need to do it standing up, right?"

"Um, right," Sloan says, a look on her face that is part curiosity, part discomfort.

"So, if I'm going to have Will do me against the wall on the big day, it made sense to make sure my heels were just the right height." She pauses, breaking off another piece of cinnamon swirl and looking over at Sloan. "They were perfect."

"Against the wall..." Sloan nods and finishes another bite before she speaks again. "So, if a Will McAvoy sex poll does ever land in my inbox, I should-"

"You should delete it immediately," she says firmly, but with a slight smirk.

"Exactly what I was about to say." Sloan says, taking another drink and looking quickly at her watch. "We should go."

"Yeah, we should." Taking the last mouthful of her coffee, she stands up and picks up her bag, noting Sloan's grin at the shoes poking out of the top.

"Kenzie?" Sloan's arm catches hers just before they reach the door and she turns back to her, eyebrows raised. "You might want to remember that a ponytail probably isn't going to work for you in the control room tonight."

"Good point," she says with a nod as she follows Sloan out onto the street. "You're loving this, aren't you?"

"Oh my God, I really am." Sloan grins as they start to walk. "I have literally nothing going on right now, so I'm going to live vicariously through you. Your sex life is my sex life...I mean, no, I...okay, fuck, I'm stopping now."

"I really think that's for the best." She grins back and picks up her pace slightly. "If I remember rightly, the deal was if we ate those pastries, we had to walk really quickly back to work. I mean, it matters a little less for me because I can burn off as many calories as I need to when I get home, but if you've got nothing going on..."

"Damn you. The truth hurts, you know," Sloan says as she picks up speed beside her and lets out a dramatic sigh. "Alright, let's go."


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _When the report comes down the wire, it jolts her, as attacks of this nature and in that area always do. When she hears that it's the British Council office in Kabul that is under attack, her unease shifts quickly towards panic and she does the first thing that comes to mind and calls her father._

When the report comes down the wire, it jolts her, as attacks of this nature and in that area always do. When she hears that it's the British Council office in Kabul that is under attack, her unease shifts quickly towards panic and she does the first thing that comes to mind and calls her father.

"I haven't heard much yet, sweetheart," her father says by way of answer, knowing exactly why she's calling. "I do have a call in to someone on the ground, but things are obviously rather tense so I don't have anything more."

"The report I just got said all British nationals are out and safe," she says, her eyes scanning her screen as she talks. "Is that the case, do you think, Daddy? Sorry, I know I'm asking questions you can't possibly know the answers to, but I'm just-"

"I know." He stops her, but his voice is kind, as ever. "I'm worried about him too, but all we can do is sit tight. I promise you, I'll call the moment I have any news."

"Thanks, I'll let you know if I hear anything too." She pauses, refreshing the screen and sighing when there appears to be no updated information. "I love you."

"You too, little one," he says, hesitating slightly before he goes on. "Is this bringing up other things for you too? I mean, if you're feeling-"

"I'm okay," she says quickly. "I have so much to do today I won't have time to let it spiral into anything, hopefully."

"Well, you know where I am if you need me, Mackie," he says, and she smiles slightly. "Now, you don't bottle this up and keep it from Will, do you?"

"No, of course not." Her answer comes too quickly, reflexively, and she briefly reconsiders. "We talk all the time, we just...I feel like...I don't want him to feel like he has to worry about me, or-"

"Oh, sweetheart." He stops her, sighing down the phone. "He loves you, it's part of his job to worry about you. You know, your strength is one of the things he loves about you, I'm quite sure of that. Admitting to him when things are difficult doesn't mean you're weak, Mackenzie."

"I know," she says, knowing he's right. Will does love her and nothing she could do would make him think of her as weak.

"Anyway, I should let you go," he says. "I shall be in touch as soon as I know anything more."

"Alright, I'll talk to you later." She hangs up and refreshes the screen again. She was the one who encouraged Joe to take the job in Kabul. 'It's a six month posting', she had said, 'and despite everything, Afghanistan is a beautiful country, and the people are wonderful.' She had sold it to her baby cousin as invaluable experience, and he had listened, thought about it, and headed out there three weeks later. If anything has happened to him, she doesn't know how she'll forgive herself, or if she will even bother to try.

She's distracted throughout the rundown meeting, twice asking a question that meets with confused looks as she's told that what she had asked had literally just been discussed. It comes as no surprise when Will follows her into her office afterwards and stands across from her, concern evident in his gentle frown.

"No news?" he asks, watching as she checks her phone, refreshes her email, checks her phone again.

"Nothing," she says, shaking her head.

"It doesn't necessarily mean anything," he says quietly. "Communications probably aren't great, even if-"

"I'm very aware of how things work over there, Will." She snaps at him, and she knows it's unfair when he's just trying to offer support. "I spent more than two years diving for cover from these sorts of attacks, I _know_ how it goes."

"I know that." His tone doesn't change even in the face of hers turning unnecessarily hostile.

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to snap," she says, running a hand across her forehead feeling the stirrings of a headache. Picking up her phone and her bag, she stands up suddenly. "I need some air."

"Okay..." He sounds worried so she tries to smile at him but it's half-hearted, she knows that, she can feel it. "I could go with you, I mean, I-"

"I'm fine." She shakes her head firmly and walks around the desk, leaning up and giving him a quick kiss as she squeezes his arm, her father's words coming back to her. "I just need fifteen minutes, I'll walk around the block and I'll be back."

It doesn't help, not really. Everywhere she looks she sees people who look like Joe, every noise makes her jump, the sounding of car horns making her think of warning sirens, the drilling from a construction site reminiscent of machine gun fire. For a few minutes she finds shade in a doorway purely so she can stand and focus on just _breathing_ , which proves so much more difficult than it should be. She should have let Will walk with her, just to have him beside her, a comfort in the face of her potential panic, yet still she struggles to lean on him with this. Is it because her triggers are all related to her being embedded, and her embedding in the first place was triggered by what she did to him? She thinks it probably is, and even though they've long forgiven each other for what happened first time around, maybe a part of her is afraid it will drag it all up again. She knows it's a ridiculous line of thinking, but she's self-aware enough to know that rational thinking is an unrealistic expectation when she's in a doorway and it's taking all she has just to breathe.

Her phone rings as she's about to walk back into the building and even though it was already clutched tightly in her hand, it makes her jump anyway.

"He's fine, Mackie." Her father's voice comes down the line and she finds herself reaching for the closest wall, leaning on it to steady herself. "Rather shaken up, understandably, but physically unharmed."

"Thank God." She lets out a long breath, relief flooding through her. "Thank God. I'd almost convinced myself...well, I'd never have forgiven myself if-"

"Now stop that," he says firmly, and she can picture his stern face. "He knew what he was going into when he decided to take the posting over there, as did you when you embedded. You may have given him the benefit of your wisdom, darling, but heading to Kabul was fully his decision. Nothing that happens to him is your fault."

"I know that, I do." She nods, trying to tell herself he's right, but knowing she'd have taken the blame on her if this had ended badly. "I really should get back to work."

"You're not at work now?" Her father sounds surprised, no doubt looking at the time and wondering where she is if not at work.

"No, I am, I just..." She pauses and swipes her access card, smiling at the guard. "I needed some air so I went for a walk."

"Ah, a jolly good walk often does the trick to clear one's head, I find," he says, kindly. "I'll let you get back to work then."

"Thanks for letting me know, Daddy," she says, hitting the button on the elevator. "Speak later, okay?"

"Indeed, my lovely." She hears the smile in his voice and finds herself smiling too as she slides the phone back into her bag and steps into the elevator.

The walk hasn't shifted the headache that was threatening her as she left, and she knows Jim is her best bet for painkillers; there was a good reason he was nicknamed Duane Reade by the marines. Walking into the bullpen, she glances around but doesn't see him anywhere. She heads towards the control room thinking she'll either find him en route, or she'll try someone else, maybe Sloan is around and will have a couple of Tylenol in her drawer.

She hears Will's voice coming from an editing bay, unusual in itself given she didn't think Will could tell her where the editing bays were if his life depended on it. She's about to go in and find out which poor editor he's bothering when she hears Jim's voice and she stops just outside the half open door.

"I mean, I can't say for sure what the best thing is for Mac," Jim says, his voice hesitant, reluctant even. "But I know that when we first came to New York if she was having a bad night she'd call me and she really just needed me to sit with her. I think it's just having someone there who isn't going to push her to talk and isn't going to ask a million questions. Like, just tell her you're there if she needs her, I think."

"Right, that kind of makes sense." Will sounds thoughtful, she can tell he's thinking about what Jim just said before responding. "We've talked, you know, about what you guys went through over there, and I've done some reading...about PTSD...I just want to get it right, Jim. I just want to help her, to make things easier for her."

"You obviously, you know, love her and stuff, so..." Jim's awkward tone makes her grin, and she can't see his face but she can picture it perfectly. "That's a good place to start, I think. Just let her know you're there if she wants to talk, but that you won't push her if she doesn't."

"Thanks, Jim," Will says sincerely. "I appreciate it."

"Oh, there you are, I was looking for you." She hopes her tone sounds casual enough as she strides through the door and smiles at them.

"Um, which one of us?" Jim asks, a nervous hand running through his hair as he turns to her. 

"You, actually," she says. "Could I grab a couple of Tylenol?"

"Yeah, sure." He nods and moves towards the door. "You okay?"

"Fine, just a bit of a headache." She smiles at him, aware of Will's eyes on her.

"No problem, I'll leave them on your desk," he returns her smile and heads out and down the hallway.

"My dad called." She steps closer to Will, watching as he frowns faintly. "He's okay. Joe, he's okay."

"Thank God for that." His frown lifts and he smiles at her. "Did your dad know much more?"

"No, barely anything other than that Joe's pretty shaken, of course, but he's not hurt, they all got out and...yeah." She lets out a long sigh of relief and reaches for his hand, squeezing tightly as she looks up at him. "Come on, we have a show to do."

*

He doesn't say much on the way home, just sits close to her in the back of the car and holds her hand. They walk into the apartment and he heads towards the kitchen, his hand sliding reluctantly from hers.

"I'll make something to eat," he says. "You didn't eat before the show, right?"

"No." Shaking her head, she steps out of her shoes and bends down to scoop them up. "I'm really not hungry though."

"Well," he says, shrugging. "I'm making you something to eat anyway."

"Fine." She sighs, in acceptance rather than annoyance, even though she doesn't think she could eat a thing right now. If it will make him feel better, she'll try. "I'm going to get changed."

In the bedroom she drops her skirt to the floor, peels off her shirt and pulls on shorts and an old t- shirt of Will's, mostly because they're the closest things to hand and she's craving the comfort of the soft cotton. The t-shirt smells like him and it reminds her of the long nights she spent alone when she would try and conjure up his scent in her mind, scared she might never breathe it in again. She used to wonder if he still remembered the smell of her, if he even thought about her at all. When they got home from their weekend at Charlie's, he told her he'd missed _everything_ about her, her smell, her taste, the sounds she makes when she's sleeping, and his sweet, honest words had made her cry.

She feels dizzy suddenly and her vision starts to swim. Sitting down on the bed, she takes a breath in, silently counting slowly, doing the same as she lets the breath out. It's not working, she can feel her chest tightening and her hands are cold and shaking as she grips the bed. She manages to stand and make it to the bathroom, leaning back against the door and again trying to take slow breaths. She doesn't think she has ever locked the bathroom door but she finds herself pushing the bolt into place before she slides to the floor, pulling her knees up and wrapping her arms tightly around them.

Breathe, Mackenzie, just _breathe_.

A breath in, a breath out, it isn't working, she can't seem to pull herself back from the brink of panic, and she can't seem to get up from the floor. She realises suddenly she's going to throw up and she crawls to the toilet, clinging desperately to the bowl. She hasn't eaten anything since breakfast, and she's barely had anything to drink either, so the combination of an empty stomach and dehydration leads to nothing more than hollow, painful retching as the room spins around her.

"Honey?" He knocks on the door and she instantly regrets having locked it, no doubt making him think she doesn't want him there, that she doesn't want his help.

"I'll just be a minute." She manages to call back to him as her stomach tries once again to expel its non-existent contents.

"Could you...do you want to unlock the door?" His tone is hesitant, tentative, and she wants to let him in, but there's still a part of her that just wants to hide, wait for it to go away, and step out of the room as calm, confident Mackenzie.

"I don't, I..." She starts but she doesn't know what to say so she stops and sits back, leaning against the sink, feeling tears sliding slowly down her face.

"I'm just going to sit right here," he says, and there's a gentle thud that she assumes is him sliding down the door and onto the carpet. "I'm right on the other side of the door if you need me, I'm not going anywhere, okay?"

She nods, aware that he can't see her response, but unable to find words. Minutes pass, she has no idea how many, but her stomach eventually rights itself and the room stops shimmering around her. Taking one deep breath, then another, she rolls clumsily onto her knees and grips the edge of the bathtub. When she manages that with no dizziness, no wave of nausea, she slowly gets to her feet and moves across the room, unlocking and opening the door. He scrambles quickly to his feet, the fleeting look of discomfort that crosses his face telling her his knees didn't appreciate the effort. He says nothing but pulls his arms from his sides, his body language letting her know he's there for her, and she steps forward and lets him hold her.

"I'm sorry," she murmurs against his chest, her breathing returning to normal as his hands run in soothing strokes up and down her back. "I just felt-"

"Nothing to be sorry for," he says quietly. "Well, maybe for locking the door, that scared the shit out of me."

"Even as I locked it I wondered why I was doing it," she says, sliding her arms more tightly around him. "I couldn't breathe and I thought if I could just shut myself in there for a minute and get a grip...I don't know."

"How are you feeling now?" he asks as he leads her over to the bed and sits her down, wrapping his arm around her shoulder.

"I'm okay." Her head rests against him and she sighs. "Turns out you can't really throw up when you haven't eaten."

"Which is why you're going to eat the sandwich I've just made for you," he says, making it clear, albeit gently, that's it not negotiable.

"So I _can_ throw up?" She smiles as he nudges her shoulder slightly.

"You'll come eat with me?" he asks as his fingers rub across her shoulder, and she murmurs a quiet yes.

He makes her a sandwich so huge she barely eats half of it, but she makes a show of trying to. She does drink a huge bottle of water though, which is partly why she wakes a couple of hours later in dire need of the bathroom. The anxiety she can feel humming through her veins isn't helping either so she climbs quietly out of bed and heads to the bathroom, sitting on the toilet and trying to calm herself down again. Opening the medicine cabinet after she washes her hands, she finds a bottle of Xanax, Will's, although she's fairly certain he hasn't taken any of them recently. Trying to level her breathing, she grapples with the childproof cap, as she always does, pushing and turning, feeling her panic rising when it simply won't budge. She picks up the bottle and moves quietly through the bedroom, past a sleeping Will, and out into the kitchen where she reaches for a kitchen knife. If she can somehow force the knife under the cap at just the right angle, it might pop. Even if it doesn't, if it would even just crack the cap slightly then maybe she can somehow smash the damn thing off. She manages to wedge the blade just under the rim of the cap and pushes it upwards, struggling because again the room seems to have started swimming around her, and she can't seem to focus.

Giving the handle one firm push, she thinks she's almost there, so when the knife slips off the cap completely she isn't quite fast enough to move her hand out of the way. The blade slices into her skin, between her thumb and finger and across her first knuckle, and she feels warmth as the blood starts to run down her hand. The knife clatters onto the counter and she sees the bottle roll to the edge and onto the floor, coming to a stop beside her foot. The first thing she thinks to do is to grab a handful of kitchen towel, wrapping it around her hand and cursing under her breath when it soaks right through almost instantly. Dumping the mess onto the counter, she picks up the towel hanging from the oven door, hesitating for a second in the knowledge she's about to ruin it and then winding it tightly around her hand. When that soaks through too, she knows she needs to wake up Will. She's still shaking, her vision is still cloudy and she can't seem to think clearly. She needs him to look at it and tell her if it's as deep as she thinks it is.

Holding the towel tightly against her skin, she walks back towards the bedroom, her legs wobbling as she tries to take calming, even breaths. He's still sleeping when she reaches the bedroom and she hates to wake him but she knows she has no choice.

"Will?" She starts quietly but he doesn't react so she tries again. "Will? Are you awake?"

"Hmm? Yeah, what's wrong?" He sits up and flicks the lamp on beside the bed, blinking up at her. "You okay?"

"Um, I had an accident," she says, glancing down at the towel wrapped around her hand, biting her lip as she looks back at him. "It won't stop bleeding, and I feel a bit...well, I need you to look at it and-"

"God, Mac." He's out of bed and standing beside her in seconds, easing her down into a sitting position and looking at the towel as he gently peels it back. "Holy shit, what did you do? It looks pretty deep."

"I was trying to get the cap off the Xanax but I couldn't." She pauses briefly. "I never fucking can get those stupid childproof caps off. So I thought I'd be able to prise it off with a knife but it slipped and...yeah. Do you think it needs stitches?"

"It's still bleeding, honey, and...yeah, maybe," he says, nodding at her.

"Shit, Billy, I'm such an idiot," she says, angry with herself for attempting something so stupid. "I just wanted to take a pill so I could stop freaking out and I wouldn't have to wake you, and now I've had to wake you anyway _and_ we're going to have to go to the hospital."

"Hey." He cups her face gently and smiles. "You're not an idiot, but fuck, honey, just wake me, whenever you need to, okay?"

"Okay." She nods, feeling stupid all over again.

*

They don't wait long at the hospital despite it being the early hours of Saturday morning, prime time for drunken incidents and people who don't have anywhere to go looking for an escape from the street. She suspects their acceleration to the front of the line has more to do with Will than with the nature of her injury, but she goes with it, it's better than anyone noticing Will and deciding that a chat about the news is a great idea at three in the morning as she drips blood all over the floor.

"Alright, what do we have here?" The doctor comes in and draws the curtain around them, looking down at the sheet in his hands. "Would you like to tell me what happened? Ms McHale, right?"

"Yes." She smiles slightly and nods at him. "I was trying to open a pill bottle and couldn't get the cap off, so I...God, this sounds so stupid when I say it out loud but I tried to prise it off with a knife and it slipped."

"Hey, it's not the best idea I've ever heard," the doctor says with a shrug, snapping on a pair of latex gloves. "But it's not the worst, that's for sure. Could I take a look?"

"Of course," she says, wincing slightly as he unwraps the towel from her hand and sets it aside, prodding her skin around the cut, which finally seems to have stopped bleeding.

"It's not as deep as you probably, thought, given all the bleeding," he says, smiling and sitting back in his chair. "But it is going to need a couple of stitches, I'm afraid."

"Can it be..." She pauses, embarrassed about what she wants to ask but deciding he's probably had more ridiculous requests. "Does it have to be those big ugly black stitches? It's just that we're getting married in two weeks, and I know that sounds incredibly vain, but-"

"Not vain at all...and congratulations." He shakes his head and she smiles her thanks. "We'll get it cleaned up and I think we can probably use adhesive rather than regular sutures. It does the job just as well, heals just as quickly, and obviously means you don't have to come back to have them removed."

"Thank you," she says, relieved that she won't have to fashion some kind of wedding appropriate bandage, although she knows Will would probably have her a diamond encrusted one custom made, if necessary.

"No problem," he says, nodding at her engagement ring. "You may want to slide that off before we start."

"Oh, right." She reaches for her ring and takes it from her finger, noticing the absence of it immediately, and opting to slide it onto her right hand rather than leaving it off entirely.

"Couple of questions before we start, if that's okay?" he asks, picking up her chart and his pen when she nods. "Are you taking any medication?

"Well, I _would_ have taken a damn Xanax if I could have got the stupid top off the bottle," she says with a wry smile. "But no, nothing else."

"No pain killers?" He glances down, marking her chart. "Birth control?"

"The occasional Tylenol, but nothing regular." She shakes her head. "And no, no birth control." 

"Are you allergic to any medication?" he asks, scribbling something down when she says no.

"Do you know when your last tetanus shot was?" He pauses for a second before following up. "Most people have no idea, so don't worry if-"

"November 2009," she answers without hesitation, knowing she was given a shot after the stabbing. The perils of a jagged wound from a probably filthy blade...

"Great, that's one less thing we need to worry about," he says with a smile. "Is there any possibility you could be pregnant?"

"No," she says, shaking her head. "I mean, I don't think so, it's unlikely, not...no."

"How much of that answer was a definite no?" He glances at Will and then back at her.

"It's a...probably not, I guess." She shrugs, wishing she had just given a firm no."I don't have...my cycle isn't very regular."

"Honey..." Will speaks up, his hand moving to her leg, squeezing her knee softly. "If you-"

"I think I'd know if I was pregnant, Billy." She tries to brush off his concern, covering his hand with hers and smiling at him.

"Oh, you'd be surprised at how many patients I see who don't," the doctor says with a smile. "Anyway, I don't think we need to give you anything right now that would make any difference either way, but if we send you home with some strong pain killers, being pregnant would change what we could give you."

“Right," she says. "Well, I'm okay with Tylenol or whatever."

“You know, we could take some blood real quick, run a test now," he says, putting the chart and pen down on the table. "The results would be in by the time we're done glueing you back together, and then we'll know if we can give you the good stuff.”

"Okay, yeah, if you want to, sure." She thinks she'd probably appreciate something stronger than Tylenol so hell, if they have to satisfy themselves that she isn't pregnant before they'll give her something better, then so be it.

The doctor takes some blood and sends it away with a nurse and starts to clean her hand. He's right, it doesn't look anywhere near as deep as she feared when there was blood pouring from it, although it definitely isn't pretty. He numbs around the cut and starts with the adhesive, and she feels a tugging but no pain, Will's vicelike grip on her other hand telling her he's finding this harder than she is. She knows what he's thinking, that this is nothing compared to what she had to deal with in the Middle East, which then leads to him thinking about why she was there to begin with, inevitably spiralling into a guilt that she can usually shut down. It's not as easy to shut it down here though, not right this second while she's being fixed up, while the doctor is there with them, so she turns her hand in his and squeezes his fingers, hoping it's enough for now.

The nurse comes back in and hands a sheet of paper to the doctor, who smiles and thanks her before turning back to finish closing the wound.

"There, all done," he says, peeling off his gloves and reaching for the paper, his eyes skimming across the sheet. "And the good news is we can send you home with the strong stuff."

"Right...good, great." She nods and aims for a smile which she's pretty certain falls flat. "Thank you."

It isn't like she expected for a second that the test would come back anything other than negative, but still...this is why she doesn't log her erratic cycle, she just can't allow herself to enter into a state of even minimal hope when it will be inevitably dashed. Not for the first time, she thinks about how it seems it's only when you can't have something that you realise just how much you wanted it. She does have Will though, and that's something she had started to think would never happen no matter how much she wanted him. As they head home, his arm wrapped tightly around her, she thinks perhaps hope isn't an entirely futile thing.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Walking into the living room, she sees Will's feet stretched out on the coffee table before she sees the rest of him. He didn't sleep as late as she did and she knows that once he woke up his brain would have no doubt started replaying everything from the night before and cancelled out any chance of a return to sleep._

She doesn't remember the last time she slept until almost noon, but she unfortunately does remember the last time she found herself in a hospital emergency room at three in the morning. At least last night she didn't have to lie about what happened while avoiding eye contact with the doctor and forcing a light tone as she scoffed at her clumsiness, vowing to just walk away the next time Brian tried to goad her into a fight. This time it genuinely was somewhat down to clumsiness, combined with impatience, a side of anxiety thrown in for good measure...never a good mix.

Walking into the living room, she sees Will's feet stretched out on the coffee table before she sees the rest of him. He didn't sleep as late as she did and she knows that once he woke up his brain would have no doubt started replaying everything from the night before and cancelled out any chance of a return to sleep. Moving closer, she sits down beside him on the couch and gently squeezes his thigh before glancing at the TV to see that it's football he's watching, pre-season she assumes, since the little she knows about sport does at least extend to knowing it isn't football season quite yet.

She snuggles closer to him, sliding her hand under his t-shirt, scratching her nails lightly across his stomach before her fingers drift lower. Looking up at him, she smiles as he leans down and kisses her, a quick, soft touch of his lips to hers before he turns his attention back to the TV. Moving her hand lower still, she dips her fingers below the waistband of his shorts, wondering if she's doing enough to distract him from the football, placing a kiss on his bicep for good measure. His hand moves to cover hers and she thinks he's going to push it lower so she's surprised when he lifts their joined hands to his lips and kisses her knuckles. When she murmurs his name and he does nothing more than squeeze her fingers she sighs and accepts he's in the mood for football more than for what she's trying to initiate.

"I'm going to get something to drink, I need to take a painkiller," she says, untangling her fingers from his and standing up. "Do you want anything?"

"Nah, I'm good, thanks," he says, running a finger down her bare leg as he seems to notice suddenly that she's wearing nothing other than a t-shirt of his which hangs to mid-thigh on her. "Your hand bothering you?"

"It's okay." She shrugs and smiles faintly at him. "It's just throbbing a bit."

She turns and heads for the kitchen, turning on the TV as she takes a pill, frowning as she watches yet another update on the storm, now predicted to hit the east coast next weekend, right as her parents are due to arrive. Deciding to email about the possibility of them flying in earlier, she grabs her laptop from the counter and goes into the dining room to sit at the table. She checks her emails, scans the ACN feed quickly, and then heads to a couple of the sites currently tracking the storm.  
Sending an email to her father, who she knows will think more clearly than her mother would, she pastes a link to the latest weather tracker and, promising to Skype with them in the morning, tells him to have a think about it. She's about to close down her emails when one from Nancy pops up and she smiles as she reads about how excited Ned is to be the ring bearer and that Beau has nervously agreed to play something for them as they arrive at the ceremony. Nancy has been so wonderful, quietly organising things in the background, only bothering her with things she knows she would want to make decisions on, somehow managing to pull everything together for them in the short time they have. She's almost finished writing back to her when Will walks in and rests his hands on her shoulders, his fingers kneading lightly. She finishes typing and closes the laptop lid before she turns to him.

"You weren't working, were you?" he asks with a frown, his forehead smoothing again when she shakes her head.

"Not really, I was checking on the storm," she says, pushing the laptop aside as she turns to look up at him. "It's meant to hit next weekend, I emailed my dad about them possibly changing their flight and coming in earlier if they can."

"Good idea." He nods and moves to stand at her side, gently picking up her injured hand, running a finger faintly over the bandage. "How's the hand feeling?"

"It's okay." She smirks as he moves his hand once again to her thigh. "Oh, I get it...football finished, is it?"

"The game I was watching, yeah." He takes her by the hips and moves her in front of him, pushing her back against the table.

"It's pre-season, Billy," she says, pausing as his hands slip under her t-shirt. "Even I know those games don't count for shit. I can't believe I was pulling my best moves and still lost out to that. Maybe I should rethink my strategy."

"Or I should rethink my priorities..." He leans forward and kisses her, his arms around her waist, fingers running across the small of her back.

"Hmm, I really don't know if I'm in the mood anymore..." She tries to keep a straight face but a grin she can't contain sneaks onto her lips and ruins the attempt.

She reaches for him but he moves and hoists her up onto the table in one quick move, grinning at the gasp she lets out. He keeps one hand on her back, his fingers warm on her skin, and slides his other hand into her hair, cupping her head tenderly as he kisses her, nibbling slightly on her bottom lip. She starts to realise his plan when he pushes her gently down towards the table, watching as she settles back onto her elbows, his eyes on hers as he lowers himself into one of the dining room chairs. When he hooks his arms under her knees and pulls her to the edge of the table, she lets out a long sigh which becomes a moan as he drags her panties slowly down her legs and hurls them over his shoulder to the floor.

"Oh, God." She bites her lip again as her hands scramble to grab onto something, _anything_ , but finding nothing. Eventually she settles on slamming her uninjured hand onto the wood and resting the other on her stomach, clutching the soft cotton of his t-shirt in her fist as she feels his mouth on the inside of her thigh.

His tongue starts to swirl in soft, rhythmic circles, his teeth scraping lightly across her skin, followed by the soothing balm of his lips. He runs a finger up her thigh, his mouth still busy on her other leg, and she cries out his name, the combination of both touches completely overwhelming her. When his lips move higher and he pulls back just enough that his warm breath is ghosting across her skin, she feels a rush of wetness and an ache so strong that she can think of nothing other than the need to feel his mouth on her.

"Will, please..." She hears herself, her voice barely audible as she struggles to catch her breath.

"Please what?" He shifts enough to look up at her, his eyes dark as he smiles. "Tell me what you want."

"You know what I want," she says, gaining some control of her voice again as she meets his gaze.

"I think you want me to put my mouth on you. My tongue, on you, inside you..." He pauses and runs a finger slowly up between her folds, then pulls it back and slides it into his mouth. "Mmm, you're wet, Mackenzie..."

"Yeah," she breathes. "Your mouth tends to get me that way."

"Good, because I'm going to lick you dry, honey, and then I'm going to get you wet all over again." He dips his head and his tongue follows the path his finger just took, lapping gently, the ache intensifying as she moans again. "I want to taste you, so I'm going to lick you like a fucking sundae until I can feel you coming against my tongue...I'm not stopping until you're throbbing in my mouth."

"Holy shit, Billy..." She opens her legs slightly wider and her arm reaches out desperately, her hand finally managing to find the edge of the table and gripping hard onto it.

She feels his lips on her, his tongue, his teeth, nipping, sucking, biting, kissing, and she hears herself begging him for more, pushing herself forward against his mouth and closing her eyes when the sensation becomes too much. Her breaths become moans, her moans escalate into wails and when he slips a finger inside her without his tongue pausing for even a second she bites her lip and comes hard, panting as he flattens his tongue and she feels herself pulsing against him.

When he pulls his mouth away from her, she whimpers and he crawls slowly up her body, leaning over her as she lies on the table, her hair in her face, her breaths ragged. He kisses her and she sighs against him, tasting herself on his lips as she slides her hands into his hair.

"Better than pre-season?" She grins at him as he moves back to look at her. "World Series level?"

"You're mixing your sports," he says, his grin matching hers as he takes hold of her hands and pulls her up into a sitting position. "But yeah, pre-season has nothing on that."

"Glad to hear it." She shuffles to the edge of the table and tugs at his t-shirt to pull him close so she can kiss him again, a smirk on her face as she pulls back. "If football wins out before we're even married, I fear for our future."

She moves her bandaged hand to the back of his head, resting it there, her fingers in his hair as her other hand runs down his arm. The sun hits the window suddenly and she grins as he squints slightly, the light hitting his face and making his eyes seem more blue than ever.

"Well, it _was_ only pre-season..." He grins and she shakes her head, lifting her hand and prodding him lightly on the chest.

"I know you think you're funny," she says, smiling as he grabs her finger and kisses the tip. "But I'll remember you said that when I put the moves on you during an actual game and you pull my hand out of your shorts when you should be pushing it further in."

"Noted." His fingers slide slowly between hers and she moves forward and climbs down from the table, leaning up once more to kiss him.

"Let's go out for dinner." She pulls her hand from his and leans down to scoop up her underwear, knowing the t-shirt isn't quite long enough to spare him a view he won't object to. "Not now, at four in the afternoon, obviously, but later."

"Sure, if you want to," he says with a shrug.

"Only if there isn't some vitally important pre-season game you need to watch, of course," she says, smirking. "I wouldn't want to stand in the way of the least important part of the sporting year."

"Oh, I think I can probably drag myself away." He runs a thumb along her bottom lip and grins at her. "You can wipe that smirk off your face, you've made your point."

"Then my work here is done...as is yours." She holds up her panties with a smile and takes a step back. "I'm going to shower. If you wanted to continue with your mission to prove I'm more important than sports you could make some tea."

Shaking his head he squeezes her hand and moves towards the kitchen.

*

Scrambling for the phone on the nightstand, her heart pounds as she panics that it's Will, something must be wrong with Will. She has the phone in her hand and is blinking hard to try to read the name on the screen before she remembers that Will's fine, he's right beside her, hopefully still sleeping, as unlikely as that is given the screeching howl of the phone.

"Hello?" Her voice comes out a little more than a croak, rough with sleep and faintly tinged with irritation.

"Hello sweetheart." Her mother's voice rings clearly into her ear and she sighs. "Now, your father talked to me about the storm and about whether we should-"

"Mum." She tries to stop her but Penny has the advantage of having been awake more than the thirty seconds so she carries on.

"I haven't managed to speak to the airline yet," Penny says, pausing for a fraction and then continuing. "But what we were thinking was-"

"Mum." She tries again, firmer this time, relieved when her mother goes quiet. "Could we maybe do this a little later?"

"Oh, did I wake you?" She can't help but smile at the obvious surprise in Penny's tone.

"It's..." She glances at the clock and sighs. "It's not even seven, Mum, so yes, funnily enough, you woke me."

"Really?" Penny asks in obvious disbelief. "But you're usually up with the lark, always have been, just like your father."

"And during the week, I still am," she says with a sigh. "But it's Sunday."

"Ah, and I'm forgetting of course that you have far less of an incentive to get out of bed now that you have that handsome fiancé of yours in there with you." The amusement running through Penny's tone is clear. "Point taken, I'll leave you to it...do Skype whenever you're able though, Mackie, I'd like to see your lovely face."

"And my lovely fiancé?" She asks, smiling in spite of herself.

"Well, I certainly wouldn't object if he put in an appearance, darling," Penny says brightly. "We'll talk to you later."

Dropping the phone back onto the nightstand she rolls over to see that Will is awake and watching her with a faint smile on his face.

"Your mom?" he asks, his voice rough with sleep as he blinks at her. "Everything's alright?"

"Yeah. My dad told her about the storm warnings so of course she thinks seven in the morning is the perfect time to call and discuss it," she says, a yawn taking her by surprise as she reaches out to settle her hand on his arm.

"They can change their flights though, right?" he asks as his yawn follows hers.

"I think so, I'll talk to them later when I haven't just been woken up." She nods and lets out a sigh as she throws back the sheet and sits up.

"You're getting up?" His hand moves to her shoulder, his fingers smoothing across her skin. 

"Well, I'm awake now." She turns back to him with a shrug and smiles at his morning hair.

"Last I checked there was no law saying that as soon as you're awake you have to get out of bed." He slides his hand slowly down her arm before moving it around her lower back and pulling her to him. "Come here."

Smiling, she sighs, drapes herself across his chest, and closes her eyes.

*

"I'm sorry your mother called so early, Mackie." Her father smiles into the screen before her mother comes into sight, rolling her eyes at her husband.

"Don't apologise for me, Robert, for goodness' sake." Penny sounds exasperated before she smiles into the camera. "I really am sorry though, darling, I did glance quickly at the clock but I thought you'd be awake, I hadn't quite taken into account the irresistible lure of Mr McAvoy."

"Oh, I think you're well aware of his charms, Mum," she says, smiling at her, letting her know the seven a.m. thing is forgotten. "Now, move over so I can see Daddy too, will you?"

She watches as her mother pushes her chair back, they're at the dining room table it seems, and her father moves his chair over slightly so she can see them both on the screen. He grins at her and she returns it, but a sudden change in the expression on Penny's face arouses her curiosity. When she sees her mother's gaze drift over her shoulder, she realises what, or rather who, has caught her eye, and when she turns to see Will, fresh from the shower, wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist, she can't help the snort that escapes.

"And here he is, the man himself and his tiny towel." Penny says, a slow grin spreading over her lips. "Or perhaps the towel isn't tiny, it's just that the man is particularly-"

"Hey Penny." Will leans over her shoulder to smile at Penny, cutting her off, to Mackenzie's relief. "How are you?"

"I'm very well indeed, thanks, Will." She smiles at him and Robert nods his hello. "All well with you, I hope?"

"Great, thanks." Will smiles again and squeezes Mackenzie's shoulder lightly. "I'm just going to get dressed."

"Oh, no need to bother on our account," Penny says quickly, pausing for a mere second. "Although yes, actually, one might find it somewhat difficult to concentrate with you there in your current state of undress."

"Good God, Mum," she says, shaking her head as Will heads back into the bedroom.

"What?" The innocent expression on her mother's face makes her laugh. "The day I'm too old to appreciate a chap as handsome as your Will, please take me outside and put me out of my misery."

"Fine." She gives her mother a mock glare and reaches up to push her hair behind her ear. "Now, did you have any thoughts about flights? I'm worried that Saturday is going to be the worst-"

"Gosh! What happened to your hand, darling?" Penny stops her and she watches a frown form on her mother's face as she shifts closer to the camera. "You're all bandaged up."

"Oh," she says, feeling silly about her injury all over again, holding up her hand to the camera. "The bandage makes it look far more dramatic than it is, it's just a couple of stitches...actually not even real stitches, just those glue ones, because I was a bit vain about showing up to the wedding with big ugly stitches. It's fine, Mum, really."

"As happy as I am to hear that..." Her mother nods but Mackenzie doesn't miss the lightning quick glance of concern between her parents. "It isn't really what I asked."

"It was so stupid, I feel like a real idiot," she says, shaking her head. "You know how those childproof caps on pill bottles are my nemesis, right? Well, anyway, I couldn't get the thing off and it was late and I was tired and I needed...well, I thought if I could just prise a knife under the stupid thing then I'd be able to get it to open..."

"Oh, Mackie." Her father speaks up, his tone soft with worry as he looks at her.

"Yeah, well, turns out it wasn't exactly the best idea I've ever had." She shrugs, giving her father a faint smile before glancing back at her mother. "Anyway, we went to the hospital, they fixed me up, it's fine. I have painkillers, and I'm under strict instructions from Will not to try anything similar if that particular bottle proves to be a tricky one."

"That sounds very sensible," Penny says, her worried look relaxing a little and a smile creeping onto her lips. "I'm guessing they don't make the future Mrs McAvoy wait too long in hospital, do they?"

"No," she says, with a grin. "It's one of the many perks, although not one I'm planning to use too often."

"I should certainly hope not." Penny nods, seemingly satisfied, and Mackenzie can't help think of how different things were when she was lying to her in the past about why she'd been at the emergency room in the small hours, feeling guilty and stupid.

"Now, can we talk about your flights?" She switches the subject back and her dad reaches for a notepad beside the computer.

"We can indeed," he says. "You're right, I think sticking with our original Saturday plans would be rather risky, so as long as you're happy for us to land on your doorstep a little early, it looks like Thursday may be a good option. We made provisional changes and we need to confirm tomorrow. How does that sound?"

"Thursday sounds good, I think, Daddy," she says, nodding as she recalls the storm report she read just before she called them which still predicted landfall on the North East coast on Friday or Saturday. "Could you try to get in as early as possible on Thursday, do you think? I'm just worried where they might end up rerouting you if the airport ends up closing. I mean, we'd make sure we got you picked up from wherever you were, obviously, but-"

"Darling." Robert stops her, smiling at her typical need to overthink every eventuality. "It's the 8.30 flight out of London so we'd get to you around eleven on Thursday morning your time. If that's alright with you, we'll confirm it."

"Well, I'll need to check with Will that he doesn't mind having you here for a couple more nights..." she says, knowing both her smirk and her tone are giving her away. "I'm kidding. Of course it's alright with us, we can't wait to see you."

"You too, poppet, it's been far too long." Her father smiles again and her mother too. "It has." She agrees. "Far too long."


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _They fall into silence, her father's attention fixed on the news, her mother yawning behind her hand, her refusal to admit to tiredness as amusing as ever. She feels Will lean down and kiss the top of her head and she sees a soft smile appear on her mother's face, reminding her again of how fond of Will her parents have always been, and how genuinely happy they are for her._

He takes the knife out of her hand, passing her the bowl and the lettuce and pulling the tomatoes towards him as she sends a smile in his direction. The cut to her hand is healing well but the bandage is still making it tricky to do the things she would usually manage with ease, so she's grateful for now to have nothing more taxing to do than throw lettuce into a bowl.

"Irene...she doesn't sound too aggressive, does she?" She looks up at Will, biting her lip and trying to keep the worry from her voice, for her parents' sake, mostly. "If it does hit, we'll be okay up here, won't we? As long as we stay away from the windows?"

"We'll be fine, honey," he replies with a reassuring smile before casting a glance towards Penny. "Sadly, it probably does mean no shopping for your mom tomorrow though."

"I'll cope," Penny says with a grin. "You know me, Will, I'll more than make up for it when the worst of this is over."

"Go and sit down, Mum, Will and I have got dinner in hand." She smiles at Penny and hands her another glass. "Take this for Daddy."

"Well, as long as you're sure you don't need me to do anything, darling." Taking the glass from her hand, Penny smiles at her and heads for the living room where Robert seems to be flicking obsessively through news channels, most of them focused on the impending storm. "Thank you."

"You don't think..." He pauses, waiting until he's sure Penny is out of earshot before continuing. "I know you're going to roll your eyes at this but...as bad luck goes, a rainy wedding day is one thing, so what the hell does a hurricane say?"

"You're a big, superstitious idiot, do you know that?" She turns and smiles at him, watching an embarrassed look cross his face. "Do you know what wedding day rain is actually said to mean?"

"I don't, but I'm guessing this is something you do know, right?" He quirks an eyebrow and puts down the knife as he turns to face her.  
"I'm the bride, Billy, I'm supposed to worry about these things," she says, taking a step closer, her smile growing wider. "So yeah, I may have googled it at some point in my life."

"Alright then, we can't have your googling going to waste." He leans back against the counter and she moves to stand in front of him, her hands resting on his chest.

"Well, by all accounts, rain on your wedding day is good luck, not bad," she says, grinning as he pulls her to him, his hands sliding around her waist and settling on the small of her back. "It's all about washing away old debris and marking a fresh start, which seems quite fitting for us, don't you think?"

"Yeah." He nods and smiles at her. "It does."

"In some cultures, they believe it symbolises fertility, which is also rather lovely." Penny walks back into the kitchen, smiling as she reaches for the wine bottle. "Of course in your case, it could be God showing his wrath because you're failing to get married in church."

"I don't think God quite works that way, Mum," she says as she feels Will's fingers stroking across her back. "But thanks for that."

"Oh, I'm not serious, Mackie, you know that." Penny squeezes her arm before picking up her refilled glass and turning back towards the door.

"Shit, that's something I hadn't even considered." He frowns and she can't help laughing, his superstitious nature always seems so at odds with the rest of his personality that it never fails to amuse her. "How the fuck are you so calm?"

"It's just weather, it'll pass," she says quietly. "You're here, my parents are here, if the storm screws things up there isn't a thing we can do about it. If we have to get married clinging to a damn life raft then so be it."

They eat dinner and move to the living room, her parents on one couch, she and Will on the other. She can feel Will's anxiety humming through him, his tension palpable beside her as she threads her fingers through his and squeezes gently, wishing he wasn't worrying quite so much. The news channel predictions range from the weekend bringing nothing more than a bout of heavy rain, to screeching that the end is coming. She's proud to see that ACN is remaining calmer than most, encouraging people to prepare for the worst but not necessarily to expect it, giving out useful information without apparently attempting to scare people half to death.

"I'm so glad you were able to change your flights," she says, leaning against Will's shoulder, her hand still in his as she smiles across at her parents.

"So are we," Penny says, returning her smile. "Let's just hope this blasted storm blows itself out and all is well by next weekend."

"It'll be fine, Mum." Her fingers tighten in Will's and she nods at her mother.

"I must say..." Penny pauses to take a sip from her wine glass. "Back together, engaged, and a wedding within just a few weeks, it's all happening rather quickly."

"Quickly?" She knows the turnaround must seem fast on the face of it, but to her it feels like she's been waiting forever for this. "It certainly doesn't feel quick to me, Mum, it feels way overdue. I've wanted to marry Will for a long time, you know that."

"I do, darling," Penny says with a smile. "I certainly didn't mean to suggest you were rushing into anything, and you know I'm delighted for you. I was simply remarking on the fact it's not exactly common to get engaged and set a wedding date for only two months later. Unless there's a particular reason for it, of course..."

"No reason other than me wanting to marry your daughter as soon as possible." Will speaks up and she feels his hand give hers a reassuring squeeze, one she returns gratefully as she bites her lip, knowing what her mother was not so gently hinting at and trying not to let it bother her. "We've wasted enough time, I'm not going to risk being without her again."

She sees a look she can't quite name cross her mother's face before she smiles at Will's response. The memory of the conversation she had with her when she and Will broke up suddenly hits her, and she recalls telling her in no uncertain terms that not only would she probably never get married but she most definitely would never have a family because the only children she ever wanted were his. She wonders if Penny is thinking of the same conversation and realises that even if she is, she can't possibly be aware of the sadness it's evoking in her. She has never shared with her mother what the doctors told her after she was stabbed, since with what looked like no chance Will would ever take her back, there really hadn't seemed any point.

"And I'm not risking him changing his mind," she says, forcing her thoughts back to the present, nudging his shoulder to make it clear she's teasing. She knows he's all in, they both are, and nothing could change either of their minds.

They fall into silence, her father's attention fixed on the news, her mother yawning behind her hand, her refusal to admit to tiredness as amusing as ever. She feels Will lean down and kiss the top of her head and she sees a soft smile appear on her mother's face, reminding her again of how fond of Will her parents have always been, and how genuinely happy they are for her. Smiling back, she tangles her fingers more tightly in his and lets out a contented sigh.

"I don't know about you, Pen, but I'm about ready to turn in for the night," Robert says, patting his wife gently on the knee, giving her a weary smile.

"Come on then, old man, let's get you some sleep." Penny stands up and holds her hand out to her husband who smiles and gets to his feet. "Goodnight, you two. Sleep well."

"You too, goodnight." She smiles at her parents and watches them head down the hall before she looks up at Will. "Bed?"

Walking into the bedroom, she tosses her jeans and shirt onto the chair and reaches into a drawer to grab something to sleep in, pulling out purple pyjama pants and a white tank top. Peeling off her underwear and throwing it towards the hamper, she turns to Will, watching him as he gets changed, thinking again about the superstitions he raised earlier.

"If this hurricane comes in and, worst case scenario, it means we can't get married next weekend, you know it doesn't matter, right?" She realises that sounds like she doesn't care about getting married, which couldn't be further from the truth, so she clarifies. "I mean, God, Will, I want to marry you next week, I _really_ want to marry you next week, but if the weather means we have to get married the weekend after, or two weeks after that, it doesn't matter. What I'm trying to say is that we're going to be married forever so another week or two, or whatever, really isn't going to make much difference."

"I know." He nods but he still looks worried so she moves closer and takes his hands in hers, smiling up at him. "I just..."

"Do you remember Valentine's Day?" she asks, her stomach flipping over as she thinks about how he looked at her that day and how it felt to have his arms around her for the first time in so long.

"I do," he says, his tone laced with pride. "It's February 14th, it's in my diary already for next year."

"Well done," she says, amused at how pleased with himself he seems. "But it wasn't a test, you nut. I was talking about last Valentine's Day, do you remember that?"

"Oh..." He pauses and for a second she thinks he's forgotten, but then a slow smile crosses his face and he nods. "Yeah, of course I remember. Rudy, you pulled the Rudy trick."

"I did." She smiles back at him as she goes on. "And you hugged me and..." 

"What?" he asks, looking at her curiously.

"Well, for just a second, right before you pulled me into your arms." She remembers the look in his eyes so clearly that her breath catches and she has to pause before she's able to continue. "I thought you were going to kiss me."

"So did I," he says quickly, firmly and she feels her eyebrows raise in surprise. "I almost did, I think, and maybe if we hadn't been in the middle of the newsroom I would have, I...yeah."

"I really wish you had..." Leaning up onto her toes, she kisses him, smiling against his lips before she pulls back. "Anyway, my point is that you didn't kiss me that day, it took us five more months before we got to that, but we got there in the end, so if the hurricane shits all over us getting married next week it doesn't mean it won't happen. Do you hear me?"

"I do," he says, running his thumbs across her cheekbones as he leans in to kiss her.

*

"It's going to be every man for himself out there, you know," she says, scribbling the last item down onto the list and handing it to Will with a smile. "You're sure you want to brave it?"

"If the alternative is coping with you and your mom if we run out of tea, then it's worth it," he answers with a grin.

"Alright," she says, running a hand slowly down his arm. "Don't be long though, and don't panic buy half the store."

"Just what's on the list." He waves it at her before folding it and sliding it into his back pocket.

"And candles," she says quickly, trying not to think about the power going out but knowing it's a possibility, a real possibility. "Get extra candles."

"I doubt there's a candle left in the whole of the city," he says gently as he opens the door under the sink and points at a box in the cupboard. "Possibly because you bought them all already."

"Right, yeah." She nods and peers over the side of the box. "We have enough, right?"

"We have enough." His hands settle on her shoulders and he rubs his thumbs in circles as he smiles at her. "Even if I have to set myself on fire, I promise I won't leave you sitting in the dark, okay?"

"I really wouldn't want you to do that," she says, relaxing slightly as she returns his smile. "But I appreciate the sentiment."

"Ready when you are, Will." Robert walks into the kitchen and smiles at them.

They head out and she moves to the sink, rinsing the dishes slightly awkwardly to avoid soaking her bandage, before loading them into the dishwasher, logic telling her she may as well run them through now in case the power does go out later.

"I could have done those for you, darling." Penny walks into the kitchen, frowning faintly as she gestures towards her bandaged hand.

"Oh, it's fine, I've managed to get pretty good at doing things one handed over this past week," she says with a smile.

"Well, at least let me make something to drink." Penny says, opening the cupboard and pulling out a box. "I brought proper tea bags for you, I don't how you manage without these, I really don't."

"It's hard, Mum, but I struggle on." She's amused by the genuine distaste in her mother's tone at the thought of drinking bad tea. "But thanks, tea would be good."

Reaching for her phone, she scans quickly through her emails, one from Nancy telling her she hopes the weather doesn't have her too worried, letting her know that every day Ned asks "is the wedding today?", and attaching a photo of him and Beau. Opening the photo, she smiles at the wide grin on Ned's face and the soft smile on Beau's, before turning the phone towards her mother.

"Beau and Ned?" Penny asks, taking the phone out of her hand and taking a closer look.

"Yes," she answers with a nod. "They're sweet boys. Nancy says Ned's excited about being the ring bearer and she thinks Beau is looking forward to being involved too, even though he's playing it cool."

"Handsome young chap, Beau," Penny says, glancing up from the phone with a smile. "And the little one is adorable."

"He really is a sweet little thing," she says in agreement. "I wish this stupid weather hadn't put the kibosh on our dinner with them tomorrow, I really want you to meet them, Nancy especially."

"I know, sweetheart, me too." Penny hands the phone back and goes back to making tea. "Phone calls are jolly good and everything but I want to chat properly with Nancy."

"Phone calls?" She raises her eyebrows but her mother doesn't turn back so she carries on regardless. "You've been talking to Nancy on the phone?"

"Of course." Penny does turn back now, a bemused look on her face. "I emailed Charlie and asked for her number so I could help her out with some of the planning. You don't mind, do you?"

"Oh, of course I don't mind. I'm so sorry, Mum." She feels terrible suddenly at the thought that her mother might have been feeling excluded, kicking herself for not putting her in touch with Nancy herself. "I didn't mean to leave you out of things, I just didn't think, I should have thought of that myself, I-"

"Nonsense, Mackie." Penny waves a hand in the air before reaching for two mugs and smiling at her. "I know you've a lot on your plate and I wasn't suggesting for a moment that you'd left me out of anything, I just thought it made sense for Nancy and I to collaborate a little. So yes, we've been talking and it's been delightful, she's really rather lovely."

"Yeah." She nods, smiling back. "She is, she's been great. We sort of picked a wedding date without really thinking about the logistics of where we'd get married at such relatively short notice, so when Nancy suggested their house it was perfect. You'll love it up there, Mum, it's so pretty."

"I'm sure it is," Penny says, turning to pour the water for the tea. "I will admit to being surprised though at your choice of date. You always wanted to be a June bride, don't you remember?"

"I did, you're right," she says with a shrug. "And then I realised none of that matters. Now Will and I have finally sorted things out, I just want to marry him, and June seems a long way off."

"So there really isn't any reason for the hurry other than the two of you having already waited long enough?" Penny asks, and there's a clear note of hesitation running through her voice. "Not that I thought for a moment the TMI nonsense was telling me something you hadn't, I just-"

"Baseless speculation is what TMI thrives on, Mum." She stops her and takes her tea from the counter in front of them, moving into the living room and curling up into the corner of the couch. "They write whatever they think makes a good story."

"I hope that doesn't mean they'll be following you around until they do discover there's a little McAvoy on the way." Penny sits at the opposite end of the couch and looks at her over the top of her mug.

"Well, they'll be wasting their time if they do," she says quietly, blowing gently on the hot tea and averting her eyes from her mother's gaze as she decides she probably should put her in the picture. "I don't think...well, we probably won't be having kids."

"Will's not keen?" Penny asks, narrowing her eyes when she looks back at her.

"Oh no, he is, or...he would be," she says, taking a deep breath and trying to smile at her mother. "The thing is, after I was stabbed, the doctors did a lot of tests and some exploratory stuff, and they basically think it's unlikely that I'll be able to get pregnant, pretty much impossible, really."

"Oh, Mackenzie." Penny sounds so sad that she suddenly can't look at her, she can't bear to see the disappointment in her eyes. "I'm so sorry, darling."

"It's fine, Mum, really." Swallowing hard, she wonders if she sounds even the slightest bit convincing to her mother's ears when she doesn't to her own. "It's my own fault. If I hadn't...well, you know, it was my decision to run away and embed, I got stabbed and this is the outcome."

"It most certainly is _not_ your fault." Penny's voice is firm and when she glances up at her, it isn't disappointment she sees, just concern. "It was a dreadful thing that happened to you over there, and I thank God every day that you're alright, but you can't possibly blame anyone other than the madman who stabbed you, darling."

"Well..." She shrugs and takes a mouthful of tea, silently disagreeing with her mother. "It's okay, I mean, I wasn't sure I really even wanted kids anyway."

"You stood in front of me six years ago and told me you'd fallen in love with the man you wanted to marry and that even if you had ten of his babies it probably wouldn't be enough," Penny says softly. "You sounded incredibly sure to me."

"Yeah..." She remembers that conversation, how at the time she was certain the next time she saw her parents she'd be engaged to Will, and she remembers too that the next time she did see them was when she woke up in a hospital bed, groggy and overwhelmed by disappointment at still being alive. "Will thinks we should go and see a specialist, find out exactly what our chances are, but I don't...I don't want to go just to be told it's impossible. Is that stupid?"

"It's not stupid, sweetheart," Penny says, frowning slightly before continuing. "But it also isn't like you to bury your head in the sand."

"That's not what I'm doing," she says quickly, wondering briefly if that's exactly what she is doing. "I just don't see the point when I've already been told I have a five percent chance at best. I feel like it makes more sense to just try and accept it than looking for magic fixes where there aren't any."

"Well, it's your decision, of course." Penny puts her tea down and reaches over to take her hand, smiling kindly at her. "You know I'm always here if you want to talk though, don't you? About anything."

"I know." Putting her tea on the table beside Penny's, she slides across the couch and feels her mother's arm wrap around her shoulder, squeezing gently. "Thank you."

*

The lights have been flickering for the last hour so she really isn't surprised when they flicker out one final time and fail to come back on. Taking a deep breath, she waits for her eyes to adjust, thankful that it's not entirely pitch dark outside, that in the city it's never really entirely dark, and watches as Will moves towards the kitchen for the box of candles they left on the counter earlier. He lights one on the kitchen counter, then a second which he carries back into the living room and places onto the table before heading back to retrieve the box. When he diverts towards the window, she sucks in a panicked breath, feeling her mother's eyes on her through the flickering light.

"Billy, are you trying to give me a heart attack?!" She stands up and walks over to where he's watching out of the window, grabbing his arm and pulling him back towards the couch. "Come away from the window."

"I was just trying to see how far the power seems to be out," he says, letting her lead him away from the window, rain pelting against the pane, the wind sounding louder by the minute.

"Yeah, well...don't." She sits down beside him, her thigh pressed against his as he lights a couple more candles for the table before sitting back and pulling her towards him.

She curls up against him and smiles across at her parents, her father looking totally unruffled (he's been through worse than this, she knows that) as her mother picks up her plate and continues the cookie she had abandoned when they were plunged into darkness. She surveys the contents of the box, silently counting up the number of candles inside.

"We have more than enough candles, Mac," he says, as though he's reading her mind. He runs a hand down her arm and drops a soft kiss into her hair. "A couple for in here, some for our room, some for your mom and dad, and with extras to get us to the bathrooms tonight. Relax, honey."

"I know, we have plenty, I know, I'm sorry." She shakes her head and pushes herself closer to him, not a fraction of space between them, his leg warm next to hers.

"You know, I remember the first time you started to feel afraid in the dark," Penny says, stopping to pick up a final, tiny piece of her cookie.

"Really?" she looks across at her mother, hoping there isn't some terrible story to come that she isn't aware of. "I just always remember not liking the dark, I didn't realise I ever wasn't afraid of it."

"You were six and we were preparing to move back to London." Penny pauses, a faint smile crossing her face. "I was so looking forward to it, but of course you weren't at all keen. You were still my little American Mackie then, all 'Why do we have to go live there, Mommy? Rufus says it rains all day, every day.' We tried to reassure you, reminding you that your cousins were all in London, that it would be fun, and for a week or so it seemed like you'd calmed down a little, until one night you woke up screaming blue murder and point blank refused to go back to sleep, crying and crying that it was too dark, something you'd never been worried about before."

"So you got me a nightlight?" she asks, trying to picture her stubborn six year-old self raising hell about the darkness.

"The very next day," Penny says, smiling at her. "With battery back up should the power go out, of course. It was a blessed miracle, you were absolutely fine from that day on as long as you had your nightlight. Right through school, college..."

"Yeah, I remember taking a fair amount of stick for that at Cambridge," she says, sighing. "And then when I was in the Middle East I missed it, especially because the nights there are so, so dark. When I got back to DC, it was the first thing I bought."

"I remember you had it when we first met, but...you didn't bring it when you moved in here," Will says, half in question, half certainty.

"I did." She nods and slides her hand onto his leg, gently squeezing his thigh. "It's packed away somewhere, in one of my bags."

"You know if you need it, we can find it and get it out," he says quietly.

"No," she says quickly, turning slightly so she can look up at him. "I don't need it...not anymore."

She hopes he realises that what she's saying is that she doesn't need it anymore because she sleeps better than ever, she's less anxious than ever, and that it's because she has him and he's more soothing than any nightlight ever could be. Glancing up, her eyes land on the box of doughnuts in the middle of the table and she sighs, feeling her stomach lurch in longing, her mouth watering at the thought of them.

"Do you want a doughnut, poppet?" Robert grins at her through the dim candlelight and leans forward, pushing the box closer to her.

"I do, but I really shouldn't," she says, her eyes drawn to one with strawberry frosting and sprinkles. "I have a final dress fitting in a couple of days and I really, really need it to fit."

"Honey, a sneeze from an angry sparrow could take you down," Will says, reaching for the box and opening the lid. "One doughnut isn't going to have you busting out of your dress."

"Well...the strawberry one wants me," she says, licking her lips and feeling Will's hand on her leg. "I can tell by the way it's looking at me."

"If you have a doughnut, I'll have a second cookie and we can roll into the wedding together." Penny snorts from across the table and picks up her wine glass, taking a large gulp.

"Have it," Will says, leaning down, his lips against her ear as he lowers his voice. "I promise you'll burn it off later."

As she takes a bite, she's thankful for the candlelight hiding the blush spreading slowly across her cheeks.

*  
The wind is even louder in their bedroom and she eyes the window warily as she closes the blinds, realising too that she hadn't even considered how hot it would be without the air conditioning if the power were to go out. Dropping her clothes onto the bathroom floor she brushes her teeth and splashes her face and neck with cold water, smiling at Will as he walks in, reaching for a towel to wipe the faint sheen of sweat from his forehead.

"Why the fuck hasn't anyone invented battery powered air conditioning?" he asks, following her lead and tossing his t-shirt to the floor.

"I really don't know." She turns to face him, unclasping her bra and peeling it off, sighing as his gaze shifts down, his eyes watching as she pulls her panties down and steps out of them. "For the record, it's too fucking hot for pyjamas."

"Does that seem like something that might disappoint me?" He smiles at her and does the same, adding his shorts to the pile of clothes beside his feet. "You sleeping naked."

"Nope." She blows out the candle and turns to walk back into the bedroom, knowing the view she's giving him also won't disappoint. "And anyway, it's too hot to sleep."

Climbing onto the bed she rolls onto her side and props herself up on her elbow, aware again of the noise the wind is making, the rattle of the glass making her wince as he slides into bed behind her.

"I'm all sweaty," she murmurs, feeling his hand move to her stomach and his chest warm against her back.

"Mmm-hmm, me too." His lips press against the side of her neck and she sighs as he lowers his voice. "So, if we're already sweaty..."

Pushing back against him, she feels her skin sticky where it touches his and she moves her hand to his arm, her fingers moving lightly through the blonde hairs. She's so used to the bedroom being cool that it almost feels like they're somewhere else, somewhere exotic. Her thoughts drift to Mexico and the night they left the doors open, having hot, sweaty, high sex with only the lightest breeze attempting to cool their skin. Her hand moves to cover his, pushing it lower as she wriggles against him, barely a movement but enough to make him groan as he starts to harden behind her.

"I can't imagine you..." He pauses and she feels him move lower down the bed, his mouth on her shoulder, his teeth scraping lightly across her skin before he lifts his head to go on. "With an American accent...you know, because you can't do one now for shit."

"My American accent is _flawless_ , thank you very much," she says, squeezing his fingers when she hears him snort. "I could step in for Sloan any night and nobody would notice...well, except she's about a million times hotter than me, and I don't know a thing about economics, but the accent wouldn't let me down."

"Alright, Groucho," he says and even though she can't see him, she can hear the grin in his voice. "And don't give me that shit. You own a mirror, Mackenzie, you know you're hot, you're _really_ hot."

His hand slides down her stomach and settles between her legs, her fingers still tangled in his, pushing him against her. She shifts her leg to allow him better access and a moan escapes when his fingers start to move, slowly in a steady rhythm, stroking upwards as his lips latch again onto her shoulder. She feels the sweat pooling in her groin, her thigh sticky under the heat of his arm and her hair clinging to the back of her neck. As his fingers keep moving, she feels herself getting wetter under his touch, biting her lip when she wants to cry out his name, tightening her grip on his hand. When he slows down, his touch so light she can barely breathe, she pushes herself back against him, moaning again as she feels how hard he is against the top of her thigh. His tongue slides across her shoulder, running circles around the freckle he loves, and when he pushes two fingers inside her it takes only a few strokes before she comes hard, her moan louder than she expected but completely beyond her control.

He waits until her breathing is steady again before pulling his fingers slowly out of her and moving his hand under her knee, lifting her leg and nudging her thigh, pushing himself slowly inside her, driving so deep that she needs a few seconds to adjust.

"Don't move yet, just..." Shifting slightly, she brings her leg to rest on his and rocks slowly back against him.

"You okay?" he asks, his voice laced with concern. "Do I need to-"

"I'm fine." She stops him, needing him to know she's alright, she just needs a second. "Maybe it's this angle, but shit, Will, you feel harder than ever tonight."

"Or maybe it's just that my fiancé, even though she can't do an American accent and doesn't know shit about the economy, is really fucking hotter than ever tonight," he says, groaning against her as she sighs and runs a hand down his arm, encouraging him to start moving.

He pulls back slightly and pushes slowly into her again, moving his hand to rest against her breast, his thumb rolling over her nipple and causing a cry to rip through her as he slides deeper into her.

"Oh God," she says, closing her eyes and realising they don't usually do this, he usually likes to see her face when they're together, but this is so good, he's pressed up so tightly against her that a sheet of paper couldn't get between them, and she loves feeling this close to him. "My parents are right down the hall, Billy."

"There's a howling wind trying to break through the window." He pauses and his thumb moves again, her nipple feeling harder under his touch. "I'm pretty sure your mom isn't going to hear you from down the hall, honey..."

"You don't think it will _actually_ break through the window, do you?" She's fairly sure he's not serious but she can't quite think clearly with him inside her, with sweat running down her body that she can't identify as hers or his, with his hand on her breast and his mouth on her shoulder.

"Figure of speech." His lips move higher again and around to the side of her neck, sucking gently on her skin. "I just meant that it's loud...even louder than you."

“Okay,” she says, moaning again as he speeds up slightly, his hand roaming down her body, his fingers brushing across her ribcage. “But if my mother has any embarrassing questions in the morning, I’m sending her to you.”

“Really?” He pulls her back harder against him and she bites her lip to hold back the noise she feels is about to escape. “You’re happy for me to tell your mom that the noisier you are, the more I like it?”

“I think you should stop talking now.” She smiles as he moves his hand to her thigh, his fingers gripping hard as he pulls almost all the way out of her before sliding slowly back inside with a long, low groan.

She pulls his hand up from her leg and laces her fingers through his, sighing as she feels his breath on her neck and the sound in her ear that she can’t quite describe but that she knows means he’s about to come. His lips settle on her shoulder again, his tongue hot as he thrusts harder into her and then falls still and groans her name, muffled against her skin... _Mackenzie_.

Eventually he slips out of her and moves back, his skin peeling away from hers, leaving a sudden absence in place of his touch. Rolling over to face him, she closes the gap between them again and kisses his chest, tasting the salty tang of his sweat, sighing against his mouth when he tilts her chin up to kiss her lips.

“Mmm, move over a bit,” she murmurs as she pulls out of the kiss and screws up her nose, grinning at the confused look on his face. “I’m in the wet spot here.”

“Am I meant to apologise for that?” he asks, his confusion turning to amusement. “Did you want me to put it…somewhere else?”

“I don’t want an apology for the cause of the wet spot, I’m totally okay with that. You know I love it when you come inside me.” She smiles at him, feeling stupidly embarrassed all of a sudden, the thought of her parents down the hall as she voices her thoughts making her feel like a naughty teenager. “I just don’t particularly want to lie in it when it makes its way out, is all I’m saying.”

"Say that again," he says quietly, making her giggle when he slides his hands around her shoulders and drags her across the bed with him.

"What?" She knows what he's asking but she bites her lip coyly, watching his eyes darken as he stares at her. "I don't want to lie in it? Or maybe...I love feeling you come inside me. Is that what you wanted to hear again?"

"Jesus, Mac." He pauses and she smiles at him as she runs a hand down his arm. "Do you have any idea what you do to me when you say things like that?"

"I'm going to go out on a limb and say you like it..." She kisses him and pulls back just a fraction, rubbing her nose against his, closing her eyes and feeling his breath mingling with hers.

"Yeah..." His tongue runs slowly across her top lip and she sighs at the touch. "I like it."

She wonders if she will be able to sleep at all tonight. It's hot, stifling almost, which she hadn't noticed when he was occupying all of her senses, but which now seems to be the only thing she can think about. It's loud too, the wind clattering against the window, the occasional gust whistling louder than the rest. She thinks about the ice cream in the freezer suddenly, no doubt ruined now after a couple of hours without power, and about whether her parents are managing any sleep down the hall. Her mind is whirling frantically and she squeezes her eyes more tightly shut and forces herself to think of nothing other than how comfortable she is with him here beside her, how relaxed her body is, and she focuses on the slow trickle of sweat she can feel sliding down in between her breasts. His breathing is soft, even, and she wonders if he's asleep already.

"You sleeping?" she asks, quietly.

"No." His hand rests in between her shoulder blades, the weight warm and soothing.

"You know when we were talking before, about my nightlight?" She shuffles closer to him, aware that she really needs to get out of bed, to use the bathroom, clean herself up, but wanting to tell him this before it falls from her brain.

"Yeah?" He runs his finger slowly down her back and a shiver runs through her despite the heat of the room.

"I don't think I ever told you this, but..." She pauses, pushing herself forward to kiss him again, her hands coming to rest on the sides of his face. "You were the first man I'd been with who didn't mock me for it, you didn't even seem to think it was weird at all."

"I think that says more about the kind of assholes you've been with than about me," he says, smiling at her as he deflects the compliment.

"Maybe a little." She nods, recalling how Brian used to take such delight in telling her how ridiculous it was that a grown woman needed a light in order to sleep. "But mostly it just showed me what a good guy _you_ are. Do you remember the first time we slept together?"

"Every detail, honey." His voice is low and his eyes are fixed firmly on hers.

"Me too, but...I remember when we went into the bedroom, I realised the nightlight was plugged in and I sort of prepared myself for you noticing and asking about it, and then all you did was nod at it and ask if it was something that helped me sleep." She falls quiet, regret clouding her thoughts as it still does when she thinks about those first few months they were together.

"I remember," he says, moving his hand to her waist, his fingers somehow feeling cool against her clammy skin. "You said it was and I told you it's no different from me turning on some music when I can't sleep. I really don't get why anyone would think it was a big deal. I mean, fuck, whatever gets us through the night."

"Billy..." She sighs and leans in to kiss him once more before she reluctantly climbs from the bed to head for the bathroom, glancing over her shoulder to smile at him. "I love you."


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _She's been at work for barely twenty minutes when she gets a call asking if she could head upstairs when she has a moment because Mrs Lansing would like to see her. Her initial reaction is one of fear, not of Leona as such, but of why she would be asking to see her, something she's never done before._

They somehow make it to work on Monday, relieved that they escaped the worst of the storm, that the predictions seemed much more dire than the eventual outcome. Not for everyone, of course, including her seamstress, who messaged her to say there was no way she could get into the city today and rescheduled for Tuesday afternoon, assuring her that she had cleared her diary for Wednesday in preparation for any last minute alterations that may be needed to her dress. Still, she feels unsettled and can't help worrying that it won't fit at all and that a day won't be enough to make it work. For a few awful minutes she feels a faint wave of nausea run through her at the thought of getting married in anything other than the dress she has completely fallen in love with.

"I can hear you thinking, Mackie." Her mother's voice breaks into her thoughts and she turns to her. "And frankly, it's giving me quite the headache."

"Sorry...it's just that tomorrow afternoon is so late," she says, sighing as she puts her bag down on the kitchen counter and kicks off her shoes. "What if it doesn't fit? What if I can't get married in it? What if-"

"Good heavens, darling, take a breath! There's no reason it shouldn't fit, is there?" Penny raises an eyebrow and walks over to stand in front of her, her eyes sweeping down her body.

"No." She shakes her head and sighs again, louder this time. "But it's been a couple of weeks since I last tried it, and if it doesn't fit properly we're cutting it _awfully_ fine for it to be altered."

"She said she'd cleared her schedule for Wednesday, didn't she?" Her mother asks, continuing when she nods in confirmation. "Then she's obviously quite certain she has enough time. Please stop worrying, Mackie, and just let the woman do her job."

"Okay, you're right, sorry, I'm just..." Nodding she manages a smile in Penny's direction before she bends to pick up her shoes. "Did you eat?"

"We did, darling, your father was hungry so we ate out before we headed back here." Penny says, returning her smile. "Oh, before I forget, I spoke to Harriet, she says she'll be here by three tomorrow, so in plenty of time to go with us to your fitting."

"Good," she says, pleased her sister is able to make it, knowing how insistent she was on seeing the dress before the wedding day. "You can come and meet me at work and we'll all go together. I need to head out early in the morning so I may not see you before I go, I have a doctor's appointment."

"For your hand?" Her mother asks, gesturing to the bandage she's still wearing.

"Yeah, it looks much better so I think it's probably fine to leave the bandage off and not worry too much now about getting it wet, but I just want to check." She feels her stomach growl but decides she really wants to change into something more comfortable before she eats. "I was thinking about...I'm going to ask her opinion on whether she thinks it worth us seeing someone. You know, to talk about the likelihood of my being able to get pregnant. I mean, not for right now, just for...well, just to see how things stand, I suppose."

"Did I bother you with my comment about you sticking your head in the sand?" Penny frowns and moves to the fridge, taking a bottle of water out.

"A bit, yeah," she says with a grudging smile, picking up her bag from the counter.

"Good to know I haven't lost my touch," her mother says, traces of a faint smirk playing across her lips. "Now, go and get changed, there's dinner for you and Will in the fridge whenever you're ready."

*

"It all looks good, Mackenzie." Katherine smiles and sits back in her chair. "It's healing really well and it doesn't look like it's going to scar at all, which is great."

"Thanks," she says, running her thumb over the faint mark where the glue was holding the skin together, happy to feel no pain when she does. "So it's fine to leave the bandage off and to get it wet and everything?"

"Absolutely." Her doctor nods, turning to type quickly before swinging her chair back to face her again. "And I guess more importantly for now, you won't be getting married wearing a bandage."

"I'm glad." She smiles, the realisation that she's marrying Will in four days hitting her afresh. "I wasn't really sure it would work with my dress."

"Congratulations, by the way." Katherine smiles, looking down at the ring on her hand. "That really is a beautiful ring."

"Thank you," she says, smiling, as embarrassed by the size of her ring as she often is when someone comments on it, even though she really does love it, sometimes finding herself just sitting and gazing at it on her finger.

"Now, the notes from the hospital..." Katherine pauses, glancing again at the screen, frowning slightly. "If we ignore the slightly less than great idea of trying to slice the cap off the bottle with a kitchen knife, I do want to ask about the Xanax. I know I haven't prescribed any for you in quite some time...do I need to remind you that taking medication prescribed for anyone else really isn't recommended?"

"No," she says, quickly, shaking her head. "I know that, and I haven't needed anything at all for months, I just had a really rough day and I thought if I could just take one it might help, and obviously that idea backfired pretty spectacularly. Can we just say I learned my lesson the hard way and leave it at that?"

"Alright, we can do that." Katherine smiles at her. "Now, apart from this little incident, how's everything else? You're well, generally? It's been a while since I've seen you. Which is a good thing, of course."

"I'm really well, everything's great." She smiles, hesitating slightly before she carries on. "Actually, there is something I was going to ask about, if you have a few minutes."

"Of course," Katherine says with a nod. "What can I help with?"

"Well, we've been talking, Will and I, and he thinks maybe we should see someone about...I guess to find out what our chances of having a baby might be." She pauses for a second, biting her lip nervously. "I know I was told after the stabbing that my odds aren't good, but Will thought it might be a good idea to see if we could have some tests run and find out where we stand in regards to my being able to get pregnant. Or not being able to, I suppose."

"And you, Mackenzie?" The doctor frowns slightly as she looks at her. "What do you think?"

"Well, I don't want to assume it's impossible if there is a chance, but I also don't want to get my hopes up if the odds are as bad as the tests suggested they might be," she says, realising only as she hears herself say it aloud that she really does need to know one way or the other. "So yes, if you could perhaps recommend someone, that would be great."

"I can definitely do that," Katherine says, reaching into her drawer and pulling out a card which she hands across the desk. "You won't find better than this guy, I promise you that. When you call his office, tell them I recommended you, okay?"

"Okay." She takes the card and looks down at it, taking a deep breath before she looks back at Katherine. "Thank you."

"My pleasure." Katherine smiles, watching as she stands up, slipping the card into her purse. "It was good to see you, Mackenzie. I hope the wedding goes well."

"Good to see you too," she says, beaming at the mention of the wedding. "Thanks."

*

She's been at work for barely twenty minutes when she gets a call asking if she could head upstairs when she has a moment because Mrs Lansing would like to see her. Her initial reaction is one of fear, not of Leona as such, but of why she would be asking to see her, something she's never done before. She can't imagine it's for any reason other than yet another story brewing somewhere, although TMI seems to have backed off lately, so she can't think of what it might be. In the elevator her mind goes over the last few months but she can't think of anything with the current potential to explode, and she desperately hopes this isn't a resurgence of the story about her that Will managed to bury months earlier.

"Don't look so terrified, Mac," Leona says, waving her in when she hovers awkwardly in the doorway. "Come in, would you, and close the damn door."

"Sure, yes, sorry." She closes the door and moves to stand in front of the desk, glancing curiously around the office, before she remembers where she is and turns to focus in Leona. "Um, is there something wrong?"

"I wanted to let you know that we're shutting down TMI," Leona says bluntly, not waiting for a response before she goes on. "It'll be gone by the end of the week. No more gossip, no more bullshit, I'm done with it."

"Right, but..." She pauses, considering how much she should question a decision that she couldn't agree with more, but deciding to go with her gut. "I could be wrong, but doesn't TMI make more money than the rest of us combined?"

"Maybe that's the problem." She flinches slightly as Leona stands suddenly and walks around the desk and over to the window. "The more money TMI brought in for us, the more we were able to ignore what total fucking trash it was."

"It really was," she says, the words spilling from her mouth before her brain has chance to stop them. "I mean, you know. I-"

"Don't even think about trying to take that back. I know how you felt about it, about their particular brand of journalism, and you're right. Maybe I should have done something about it before now..." Leona stops talking and gazes off and out of the window for a few seconds that feel like hours, before she finally turns back. "Anyway, they'll be gone by the end of the week, all of them begging for jobs at Gawker or Page Six, or wherever the latest bullshit is churned out these days."

"So, Nina Howard, she'll be out of a job too?" she asks, unsure why she cares, but feeling uneasy about the whole situation.

"All of them, Mac," Leona says slowly, as though she's explaining something to a child. "So yeah, that includes Nina."

"Right, I just..." She can't possibly say what she wants to this time, she knows that. She can't bring herself to ask why Nina, who was merely handed the voicemail about Will being high, is about to find herself without a job, while Reese, who ordered the hacking, remains completely unscathed. She knows why, of course, because Reese's mother owns the company, whereas Nina has no such privilege. Even though she has absolutely no loyalty whatsoever to Nina, it feels...wrong. "Doesn't matter, it's nothing."

"I know what you're thinking," Leona says, looking so directly at her that it takes everything she has not to look away. "Reese was the one responsible for this yet he keeps his job while I'm firing other people left and right? Yeah, well, he's been made well aware that if he ever thinks about pulling another fucking stunt like that, nothing will save him, I'll march his ass to the FBI myself. I mean it, Mac, he's getting a second chance but he sure as hell won't get a third."

"Okay," she says, nodding and smiling slightly. "Thanks, for letting me know, I mean...did you need me for anything else?"

"There is one other thing." Leona pauses and turns back from the window, her expression completely inscrutable. "You're heading up to Montauk when, Thursday?"

"Yeah, Thursday morning is the plan, to avoid the traffic as much as we can." She nods but feels a surge of panic that perhaps Leona is about to tell her she's needed at work and that she can't leave until Friday, and she steels herself to say no, it has to be Thursday, no question.

"I thought so," Leona says, with a nod. "What I was thinking is I'd like you to use my plane, I can set it up for whatever time works for you on Thursday. It's big enough for you and Will, your family, whoever else, and it means you won't have to sit in traffic. It's quick, it's comfortable, and hell, the bride shouldn't have to sweat it out on the Long Island Expressway two days before her big day."

"I'm sorry, I...your plane? Did you just offer us your plane?" She's aware she sounds like a spluttering fool and she doesn't know why Leona having a plane is a surprise but still, it's struggling to sink in that she's offering it to her.

"My God, Mac, just say yes, thank you, and let's both get back to work, alright?" Leona's tone is impatient but there's an unmistakeable smirk on her face.

"Then yes, thank you." She smiles at Leona and heads for the door, stopping before she opens it and turning back. "Please don't think I don't appreciate it because I do, I really do, but I just wondered...well, why?"

"Will anchors our flagship show, you produce it, is that not enough?" Leona asks, rhetorically it seems, when she doesn't wait for a response. "Look, Will was unhappy for a long time and it made him really quite fucking unpleasant to be around, if I'm honest. Now he's marrying you, he's turned into a decent human being again and it makes life easier for all of us. That's why."

"Right, well..." She smiles and opens the door. "Thanks again, Mrs Lansing, it's really kind of you."

"You're welcome...and it's probably time you stopped calling me Mrs Lansing." Leona's words surprise her so much that she turns back again and grins at her before biting back anything ridiculous that may come out of her mouth as she heads out of the office.

On the way back downstairs she tries to come up with a reason for Leona offering her plane, other than an olive branch, an acknowledgment that Reese's behaviour was despicable and that she knows it as well as they do. She's walking back into her own office by the time she starts to think about TMI, realising that while she's relieved that AWM is chopping down its trashiest branch, it still feels wrong that Reese's job is safe while others are losing theirs.

She heads towards her office but diverts to Will's, knowing she should tell him the doctor is pleased with her hand and that she won't be needing a diamond encrusted bandage for their wedding after all. She also wants to let him know they're going to be travelling up to Montauk in slightly more fancy style than expected. He's sitting at the table, not the desk, newspapers spread out, and he smiles when he sees her.

"Hey," he says as his eyes flick to her hand. "No bandage?"

"Nope, it's healing well, Katherine doesn't even think it's going to scar, so I can stop panicking about the wedding photos," she answers, holding up her hand.

"You were panicking?" He quirks an eyebrow. 

"A bit." She shrugs. "Silently."

"So..." she says, smiling at him. "I just came from talking to Leona."

"Oh God." He sighs and rubs a hand across his forehead. "What happened now?"

"That was my first thought too, but it was nothing like that," she says, moving closer to the table and glancing at the cover of the New York Times before she looks back up at him. "She's having her private plane fly us up to Long Island on Thursday, something about marrying me making you less of an arse which in turn makes her job easier."

"I feel like I should be offended by that, but you know, she's probably right." He shrugs and reaches for the mug in front of him. "Her plane?"

"I know, it's kind of ridiculous, isn't it?" She shakes her head, still slightly bemused by it. "Eh, she has a plane, if she wants us to use it, the hell if I'm going to argue with her," he says.

"Oh, believe me, I didn't argue," she says, pausing again to read one of the headlines on the table. "There was something else too...she's shutting down TMI."

"Seriously?" His eyebrows raise almost comically and she nods. "But most of her not inconsiderable fortune comes from the shameless gossip arm of this company."

"I know, I pointed that out but she said she's done with it, she doesn't want to trade in that shit anymore," she says, knowing he's picking up on her hesitation.

"Then what's up?" he asks, a frown moving into place across his brow. "This is good news, Mac. She's right, TMI is total fucking shit and she should have shut it down way before now."

"I don't disagree with that, it _is_ shit, but I can't help thinking the wrong people are being blamed here." She pauses as she thinks about what she's trying to say. "Yes, they were going to run the story, but that's their business, it's what they do. It was handed to them on a plate, they were hardly going to turn it down, were they? I just don't know if I can blame anybody there for what was essentially Reese's handiwork. And you know, Nina did come to me to warn me, I-"

"Warn you?" He looks at her in obvious disbelief. "She didn't come to _warn_ you, she came to gloat, to wave her potential fucking story in your face."

"Well you would think that, wouldn't you?" She's annoyed suddenly, his tone sparking something in her that she needs to get out.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" he asks, narrowing his eyes.

"Look, Will, I get it, she turned you down on New Year's Eve and your precious ego was dented," she says, sighing. "But surely you can still see that she's taking the hit here for being the middleman?"

"I doubt you've forgotten about the story she tried to run on you," he says, his voice quiet as something that looks like hurt flickers behind his eyes. "But sure, Mac, let's assume the only reason I have no fucking respect for the woman is because you think she dented my ego."

"She threw a drink in your face, Billy, it didn't seem like she was exactly tempted by whatever you were offering," she says, irrationally angry again about that night, even months later. Angry with him for looking at her in her dress the way he did, angry with Sloan for pushing him to talk to Nina, but mostly angry with herself for dragging out her charade of a relationship with Wade for as long as she did.

"I wasn't offering a damn thing, I wasn't interested, I didn't even want to be at the fucking party," he says, his voice raising as she folds her arms across her chest. "Especially knowing you'd be parading your boyfriend under my nose."

"What?" She's angry all over again, this time it's definitely at him. "You're seriously going there? You spent months parading a different woman every damn night under my nose, and you're yelling at me for bringing the one person I did date to the New Year's Eve party? I can't believe we've talked and talked about all the important stuff and this is what you're throwing at me. I just-"

"Mac..." He tries to stop her and reaches for her arm but she holds both hands up to warn him off.

"I mean, I know I got exactly what I deserved with Wade, but I really only agreed to go out with him because I couldn't bear another night of you showing off your latest date while I was going home alone again!" She's aware that she's on the verge of yelling, she's also aware that this is ridiculous, that none of this matters, and she's upset at him for throwing this at her completely unexpectedly when she thought he knew that Wade was nothing more than a knee jerk reaction that turned into a terrible mistake. "God, you must have been fucking delighted when it turned out he'd been using me the whole time."

"Mackenzie, please..." He tries again and this time she stays quiet, takes a deep breath because she knows she needs to calm down and she can't quite understand how this conversation turned into them yelling at each other about things that could not be less important. "I didn't mean that, and fuck, when it turned out he'd been using you I wanted to knock him on his ass, you must know that."

"Yeah, I do, I just..." She pauses, completely unable to figure out how she got quite so uncontrollably angry, only now to feel like she wants to cry. She takes a breath in, letting it out slowly in an attempt to regain her calm. "Okay, I need to get back to work."

"Don't go." He steps forward and rests his hands on her shoulders. "I didn't mean to-"

"I really do have a ton of work to get through so I can take a couple of hours out this afternoon," she says, forcing herself to smile at him slightly as she wills herself to calm down. "Because in case you've forgotten, we're getting married in four days and I have a dress fitting, a final fitting that's so late that if it doesn't fit now, I'm screwed."

"Honey, the dress is going to be fine, but even if it wasn't..." His thumbs rub slowly across her shoulders and she closes her eyes for just a second. "You'd look perfect in whatever you decided to wear."

"You underestimate how deeply I'm in love with my dress," she says as she opens her eyes and finds him gazing at her. "You'd better hope it's fine, because if I can't wear that dress, we're not getting married."

"I really hope that was a joke, but I'm not sure," he says, frowning at her, his thumbs still moving on her shoulders.

"I need to get back to work." She grins at him and steps forward, dropping a light kiss onto his lips before she turns for the door.

*

"Describe it to me, Trip," Harriet says as they walk. "White? Cream? Pink?"

"We're not even a block away, Harry, I'm pretty sure even you can wait that long," she says, her exasperation overridden by how happy she is to see her sister. "It's perfect, that's all you need to know."

"Oh, it really is," Penny speaks up with a smirk in Harriet's direction. 

"Wait, Mom's seen it?!" Harriet stares at her, eyes wide.

"No she bloody hasn't." Shaking her head, she turns to her mother. "You can't resist, can you?"

"I just wanted to see her face when she thought I was keeping it from her, that's all." Penny shrugs, her eyes twinkling as she looks at both of them.

"Well, you can both quit bugging me because you'll see it in a few minutes." She stops outside a nondescript brown door and presses the buzzer, smiling when she hears her seamstress's voice. "Hi Irina, it's Mackenzie."

Irina greets her with a smile and a hug as they reach the top of the stairs and she can feel Penny and Harriet behind her, itching to get in and see the dress as she chats to Irina in Russian, asking about the weekend and if she suffered much damage at home from the storm. Eventually she turns and introduces them all before they head inside.

When she steps back to look in the mirror, she feels so relieved that the dress is every bit as beautiful as she remembers that she whispers a thank you, although she isn't quite sure in whose direction it's aimed. Taking a deep breath, she pulls back the curtain and steps out, smiling nervously at her mother and sister.

"Whoa, just...holy crap!" Harriet is the first to speak, standing up and running her eyes from the bottom of the skirt up to the bodice, before looking at her, a wide smile on her face. "It's gorgeous, Trip, really gorgeous, you look amazing. Mom?"

"Oh Mackie, you look so beautiful," Penny says, hastily wiping her eyes as she smiles at her, a fresh bout of tears following the first as she scrambles in her bag for a tissue. "I love it, you're right, it's absolutely perfect on you."

"Jesus, Mom, get it together!" Harriet hands her a tissue, a faintly horrified look on her face. "If you start wailing, she's going to start too and then I'll have to deal with both of you."

"I can't help it." Penny protests, pausing to blow her nose. "My eldest girl is getting married, and look at her, Harry, she looks so beautiful."

"She does, I'll give you that, so I'm going to let this show of emotion slide just this one time." Harriet smiles and puts an arm around her mother's shoulder, turning her attention back to the dress, as Irina steps closer.

"Is good, Mackenzie," Irina says, her thick Russian accent as strong as the day she arrived in New York twenty years ago. "You lose a little weight though, yes?"

"Oh, I don't know," she says with a frown, smoothing her hands over her hips. "Did I?"

"I think yes, but the bride, she not eat when the wedding stress comes, no?" Irina moves the measuring tape to her waist, pausing to scribble in her notebook as she gently pins the fabric.

"No, I have been eating," she says, lifting her arms slightly for Irina to move the tape higher. "I've just been busy, I guess."

"The waist, it gets smaller," Irina says, raising her eyebrows and smiling. "The bust not so much...is very good."

"The Morgan ladies have always had boobs to be proud of," Penny says, grinning at Irina. "Mackenzie's certainly no exception."

"I have seven girls," Irina says as she moves to check the back of the dress. "They all have the good, sturdy chests. Is good for feeding the babies, and for looking pretty in the gowns, I think."

"Seven girls?" Penny's eyebrows raise and Irina nods. "Good lord, I thought my four were quite the handful."

"Yes!" Irina laughs and turns to Penny. "Number five I think maybe this will be boy baby, number six I think the same, but seven? I think maybe the girl babies are what I get. You have boy too though, yes?"

"Yes, one boy, four girls," Penny says, smiling as Irina puts the tape and notebook down on the small table. "So if Mackenzie has lost a little weight, it will need to be taken in?"

"Tiny bit, yes," Irina says, turning back to face her with a smile. "Will be no problem, Mackenzie, making smaller is much easier than making bigger. Tomorrow, okay?"

"Oh, thank God," she says, letting out a long sigh and catching sight of the questioning looks on both Penny and Harriet's faces. "Um, I may have told Will that if I can't get married in this dress, then we're not getting married at all."

"Mackie, you didn't!" Penny exclaims, her eyebrow raised.

"Oh, I didn't mean it, we were fighting and I was annoyed." She shrugs and turns to take one final look in the mirror before she has to remove the dress. "It's fine."

"Fighting?" She sees Penny glance at Harriet who doesn't look at all worried. "Nothing serious, I hope, darling?"

"Come on, Mom," Harriet says with a smirk. "I'm pretty sure fighting is foreplay for those two."

"Oh my God, Harry!" she says, shaking her head and avoiding her mother's eyes. "I think I was a bit more anxious about this fitting today than I realised, I got snappy and Will took the brunt of it. It's nothing, really."

"Glad to hear it," Penny says, returning the smile as she watches her disappear back behind the curtain. "I have a lovely dress for Saturday and I'd hate to have to return it."

*

Walking into the bullpen, she spots him talking to Jim, a slight frown on his face which lifts when Jim smiles and hands him what she assumes is his script before walking away. He smiles back and when his eyes meet hers, his smile visibly widens as she gets closer.

"Do you have five minutes?" she asks quietly, her eyes flicking in the direction of her office.

"For you, I can probably even spare six," he says, moving his hand to the small of her back as they move through the room.

"Six whole minutes of Will McAvoy's time," she says as they walk into her office. "Aren't I a lucky girl..."

Closing the door behind him, he watches as she leans back against her desk, waiting, she thinks, for her to speak first, but giving in to his impatience and stepping closer.

"Everything go okay?" he asks, leaning forward slightly to drop the script onto her desk.

"Yeah." She nods and feels a grin spreading across her lips as she thinks about her dress. "The good news is that the dress is perfect so this wedding is definitely on."

"Thank God for that," he says, moving another step closer and taking her hand, running his thumb gently over where the glue has sealed her cut with barely any trace of a mark left behind. "Wouldn't want to miss out on a ride in Leona's plane if you decided you couldn't possibly marry me in anything other than that dress."

"Good point," she says, reaching behind her to pick up the script. "This all good for me to read through?"

"Yeah." He watches as she opens it and skims the first page, nodding in agreement at the running order. "If it's fine then you can thank me, if it's not then you should really talk to Jim."

"Funny how that's the way it goes..." She remembers suddenly that she'd been too busy yelling at him earlier to tell him about her chat with Katherine, so she pushes herself away from the desk and rests her hands on his chest.

"You alright?" he asks, his expression part concern, part curiosity.

"I forgot to tell you earlier, but I had a chat to Katherine this morning," she says, curling her fingers slightly, rubbing her thumb over the cotton of his t-shirt. "I asked her if she might be able to recommend someone we could see to talk about what my chances of getting pregnant are."

"You did?" He looks surprised and she knows it's because he's familiar with how stubborn she is and probably didn't expect her to budge on this. "And?"

"And I have a card, she says we won't find anyone better than this guy." Pausing, she watches him lift her hand from his chest and bring it to his lips, kissing her fingers.

"So you'll call?" he asks, threading his hand through hers and pulling their clasped fingers back against his chest.

"Yep," she says, nodding again and smiling up at him. "I'll make an appointment for when we get back from the honeymoon. The honeymoon we're taking to..."

"Nice try, honey." He grins and she shakes her head at him. "You'll find out where we going when we get to the airport and not a minute before."

"Fine." She grins back, enjoying yet another attempt to try to find out where he's taking her, even though she's actually okay with it being a surprise.

"I'll leave you to go over the script," he says, squeezing her fingers before he lets go of her hand and heads to the door.

"Alright." She moves back around the desk and sits down with the script in front of her, deciding to give it one last try before he goes. "Is it Paris?"

"You can't resist, can you?" He turns back and shakes his head at her, smirking slightly. "Yes, it's Paris, are you happy now?"

"Oh..." For just a second she thinks she's guessed it, blown the surprise, but then she sees the look on his face. "It's not Paris, is it?"

"For the record..." He rocks back on his heels, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans. "Even if you had me at gunpoint, you wouldn't get this out of me."

"Dammit," she says, turning her attention back to the script, biting back a grin. "That was going to be my next tactic."

"Let me know when you're done with the script," he heads out of the door and she smiles as she opens the first page and reaches for her highlighter.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Tomorrow they'll be on Leona's private plane, and two days after that they'll be married. As she steps out of her dress and turns back around to face him, she can't contain the grin that spreads slowly across her face at the thought._

Standing back in the far corner of the room, she takes a moment to watch the chaos that has overtaken the place since her family arrived a little over an hour ago. Her parents, sisters, her brother and sister-in-law, all together for the first time in so long, talking, laughing, teasing each other in the way that says 'I love you'. When she thinks about how this time is so different because she has Will by her side again and she's truly happy, it overwhelms her and she closes her eyes to try to ward off the tears unexpectedly welling up. If Harriet spots her quietly falling apart, she'll never hear the end of it, but she can't quite help it, and she's just considering disappearing quietly into the bedroom to talk herself out of her silliness when she feels Will's hands on her shoulders.

"Hiding at the back of the room already, honey?" His voice is low in her ear as his hands move down to wrap around her waist and she leans back against him. "They just arrived an hour ago."

"You can joke now, but you're about to marry into this world of insanity," she murmurs, letting out a contented sigh and covering his hands with her own. "Do you have any idea what you're about to get yourself into?"

"I do," he says, and she can hear the smile in his voice. "I'm ready."

She falls silent and watches as Harriet hugs their youngest sister and Robert sits with his only son, the proud smile on his face clear even from across the room. Penny is sitting with Sheila, her face animated, hands gesturing wildly as she speaks and Sheila nods enthusiastically.

"Did I tell you Sheila's pregnant?" she asks, pushing her fingers slowly through his, lacing them tightly together.

"She is?" She hears something in his tone, hesitation perhaps, and she feels bad that he isn't sure what to say and she hates that he sees it as something difficult for her.

"Due in February," she says with a nod. "I'm getting a niece or nephew at last, so you should prepare yourself for lots of shopping for tiny clothes, and stuffed animals."

She thinks he's about to say something when Cat spots them and heads across the room, smiling as she gets closer. Cat, the sister whose lack of resemblance to the rest of them blew Will's mind the first time he saw a photo, and it was only after he met her that he said he could see she was a McHale despite her blonde hair and eyes so much lighter than those of her siblings.

"I can't quite believe everyone's here, Mac," Cat says, smiling at her and then at Will. "You must feel terribly outnumbered by McHales, Will. When will your family be arriving?"

"Oh, they can't make it," he says and she feels him shrug against her.

"Gosh, I'm sorry." Cat frowns slightly and looks worried that she's said something she shouldn't. "I just assumed...sorry, God, I hope I haven't put my bloody big foot in it."

"You haven't, it's fine, no big deal, they're all pretty busy with various things and we're really not all that close anyway," he says, the warmth in his voice as he reassures her sister making her smile.

"Well, you have a horde of McHale siblings here." Cat's smile reappears. "We've got you covered."

She's in the kitchen later, refilling glasses for various people, when her brother walks in, the first time she's really seen him properly since they arrived.

"I can't believe you're going to be a daddy, congratulations," she says, smiling at him and handing him a glass. "Sheila looks great, is she feeling okay?"

"She's been really well," he says with a nod. "A little bit sick in the beginning but it seemed to pass fairly quickly and now she's coasting through it."

"That's great, Ruf. Mum's certainly excited about it." She grins and he shakes his head, grinning back. "Her boy finally giving her the grandchild she's been pretending all this time she really wasn't bothered about."

"I know, this poor child has the McHale expectations weighing heavy on his or her shoulders already," he says. "Not to mention it'll be spoiled rotten."

"The perils of the first grandchild, I suppose," she says, pausing to take a sip of water.

"Yes, I think you're right." He nods, smiling softly. "Mum will need a second one to take the pressure off the first."

"God, I'm not sure Sheila will be keen on going straight in for number two." She laughs as she thinks about her brother raising that with his pregnant wife.

"I wasn't talking about us," he says, raising his eyebrows. "The first of my little sisters is about to get married, after all."

"Well," she says, trying to keep the smile on her face as she affects a casual air. "We'll see, I guess. Whatever happens, I'm getting a new niece or nephew soon to buy outrageously cute clothes for."

"I thought you might be quite pleased about that." He smiles and her smile in return is genuine because, her own situation aside, she's delighted for her brother and excited for a new addition to the family. "So, how are you doing? Nervous about Saturday?"

"You know, I'm really not." She shakes her head. "I mean, I'm nervous about everything coming together as it should, but in general, no, I'm just excited. It's actually tonight's big dinner that has me a little twitchy and I don't really know why."

"Because en masse the McHales are really quite terrifying and if anything makes Will run for the hills that'll be it?" He grins and she laughs because she knows it's true in part, as a group they can be somewhat daunting to others, but she's not worried about Will. He teases her about her crazy family but she knows he loves how they've welcomed him into the fold with open arms, and he's not running anywhere.

"I think he secretly loves how terrifying we are," she says, her mind flashing back briefly to the first time he met Harriet ("I do get the sense she's your most terrifying sister..."), making her smile. "I think it's Mum and Nancy finally getting to conspire in person that has me worried. I can only imagine what Mum might have talked her into for the wedding."

"Don't over think it, Mackie, it'll be fine, it might even be fun, you never know." He grins before taking a sip from his glass, and she lets out a sigh because she knows he's probably right. "Keep topping up Mum's glass and she'll be asleep at the table by ten."

"I think we both know it's more likely she be up on the table by ten." She smirks and he shrugs in agreement. "I'm happy you're all getting to meet Charlie and Nancy tonight though."

"Me too," he says with a smile. "I think I need to shake Charlie's hand pretty firmly, actually...for being the one sensible person in your bloody industry who knew you were still ragingly capable when everyone else had entirely lost their marbles. You've certainly proved him right since then, the show's really great, Will's better with you as his EP, I think."

"And I'm better when he's my anchor." She shrugs and glances briefly across the room where Will is chatting to Sheila, before turning back to her brother. "So it works out for everyone."

*

"Silence." She walks into the bedroom and grins at him. "They've all headed back to the hotel, Mum's napping, and Dad's on the balcony with a drink and a newspaper."

"So if we wanted to take a long, leisurely shower together before we go for dinner, that'd work, right?" he asks, a smirk on his face.

"Oh, I think it would absolutely work," she says, nodding at him as she starts to unbutton her shirt.

There's a buzz as one of their phones vibrates on the dresser, and she assumes it's hers, one of her sisters probably, but as she steps closer she sees it's his, and she only briefly catches a glimpse of a message on the screen before he leans across and picks up the phone, looking at the screen before sliding it back onto the dresser. She frowns at him, familiar with the sheepish expression on his face, but having no clue what's causing it.

"Dinner's at seven, right?" He asks, pulling his t-shirt off over his head and reaching for two towels from the clean pile on the end of the bed.

"Yep." She throws her shirt onto the bed and wriggles out of her jeans, shedding her underwear as she heads towards the bathroom, assuming he's following her, which he confirms with a hand to the small of her back as she leans in to turn on the shower.

She says nothing until they're both standing underneath the spray, her eyes closed as the warm water runs down her face, opening when she feels him step behind her, his hands moving into her hair and starting to gently massage her scalp.

"Mmm," she murmurs, glad he doesn't think that the removal of her bandage means she doesn't want him to wash her hair anymore, even though she doesn't need him to. "Keep doing that, Billy."

"Good?" She can hear the smile in his tone, he's more than aware of how much she enjoys it when he washes her hair.

"Will McAvoy, masseuse extraordinaire," she says, leaning back slightly as his thumbs roam lower, soothing the tension at the base of her skull.

"In another life..." His fingers comb through her hair, lathering up the shampoo and letting it run down her back.

"So...who's Stacey?" she asks, feeling his hands stop moving for just a second before his fingers begin their massage again.

"Huh?" She can hear the thinly veiled panic in his voice and she smiles, because she knows she has nothing to worry about, she's really just wondering what surprise he no doubt has planned on top of the honeymoon destination he still won't budge on whenever she tries to squeeze it out of him.

"Stacey. Who's Stacey?" She repeats herself before turning around to face him, pulling them both out of the direct spray of the water.

"I have no idea," he says, his eyes darting down to watch the final traces of shampoo disappear down across her collarbone.

"Do you get a lot of messages from people you don't know?" she asks, following a droplet of water down his chest with her finger before looking back up at him.

"No, I...I don't..." He lets out a sigh before going on. "She's not...she's nobody."

"Poor Stacey," she says, biting back the grin she feels in response to his squirming. "I'm sure she's not nobody."

"Mac..." he says with a worried look creasing his forehead. "She's not...I mean, she's...fuck, can I just say she's someone organising something for us and leave it at that?"

"I think you know me far better than that, but okay." She lets her grin escape and he looks relieved as he realises she isn't worried, she's just curious. "I'll wait until you're almost asleep and prise it out of you."

"You really don't give my secret keeping skills enough credit." He leans down and kisses her, smiling against her lips when she pushes him back under the spray.

"Just what every woman wants to hear from the man she's about to marry..." she says, reaching for the conditioner and handing it to him with a grin.”Here, finish the job, would you?"

*

"Did I tell you how hot you look tonight?" He leans down and murmurs into her ear, his hand squeezing hers as they walk ahead of her parents towards the restaurant.

"It's because this dress is doing wonders for certain parts of my anatomy, isn't it?" She glances down at her cleavage, trying to remember if she wore a different bra with this dress last time or if it always fitted this way.

"Pretty sure it's you doing wonders for the dress," he says, his voice low as his thumb softly runs across hers.

"Flattery will get you everywhere, Mr McAvoy," she says, looking back up at him, biting her lip as his gazes fixes on her, breaking only when they arrive at the restaurant and he reaches to open the door. "But first we have to get through this dinner."

They get through the dinner and her brother's words from earlier come back to her as she's looking around the table at her family, thinking that he was right, it really has been fun. Her mother ended up neither asleep at nor standing on the table, instead she and Nancy talked and talked, while Charlie and her father shared knowing glances across the table. She turns down coffee because she doesn't want to end up wired and lying awake half the night, even though the sudden wave of exhaustion crashing over her means she's seriously tempted by a double espresso.

"You okay?" Will's hand slides under the table and onto her knee, squeezing lightly. "You've gone quiet."

"Hmm?" She turns to him and smiles. "I'm fine, just a bit tired, that's all."

"You want to head home?" He runs his thumb slowly across her cheekbone and pushes her hair behind her ear.

"Mmm, I'd love to." She sighs and closes her eyes as she leans into his touch and lowers her voice. "I want to take my shoes off, I want you to take my dress off...and then we need to have sex."

"No objections here, but we _need_ to have sex?" He sounds amused and when she opens her eyes she sees him smirking at her.

"Yep." She nods and grins at him. "Tonight's our last night in our own bed before we get married, we absolutely have to have sex. I feel like if we didn't, something terrible might happen, we might jinx something if we don't mark the occasion properly, you know? Hell, you're the superstitious one, there must be some rule somewhere along these lines, right?"

"I'm in, honey, you really don't need to sell it to me." His hand squeezes her knee again and he smiles at her. "How about we just tell everyone we need to leave now for our last bout of pre-marital sex?"

"That's not what I said," she says with a smirk. "It's the last time in our bed, but we still have tomorrow...I think we've established that I'm over my weirdness about doing it in Charlie's spare room."

"Oh yeah, we definitely established that," he says, glancing around the table where Charlie and Nancy seem to also be getting ready to leave, Sheila is almost asleep against Rufus's shoulder, and both Cat and Frankie appear to be flagging slightly, jet lag no doubt starting to set in. "Pretty damn thoroughly."

*

"Did you know about the hotel?" she asks as she sits on the bed and pulls off her shoes, leaning down to rub her feet, only realising the view down the front of her dress she's giving him when she glances up and sees the expression on his face.

"Nope," he says, shaking his head and moving to stand in front of where she's sitting. "Doesn't surprise me though, Leona's pretty generous with the people she likes."

"Until a couple of weeks ago, I wasn't even sure she knew my name..." She reaches for his belt, her fingers deftly opening the buckle, and then the button on his pants. "And now she's flying us to Long Island and putting my whole family up in the fanciest hotel in Montauk. It's kind of crazy."

"Oh, she knew your name." He pulls her hands from his belt and kisses her fingers one by one, his lips soft against her skin. "That's her schtick, making you think you're not on her radar at all when really she knows exactly who you are and exactly what you do. It's a pretty smart tactic."

"Well, she's a smart woman," she says, smiling at him as she kicks her shoes away and stands up. "A smart woman with a _plane_."

"You're still pretty fucking impressed by that, aren't you?" He smiles back and moves his hands onto her shoulders, turning her around so he can slowly unzip her dress.

"I'm never not going to be impressed by that, if I'm honest." She sighs as his fingers trace lightly down her spine and she feels his warm breath against her neck. "I mean, shit, her plane."

Tomorrow they'll be on Leona's private plane, and two days after that they'll be married. As she steps out of her dress and turns back around to face him, she can't contain the grin that spreads slowly across her face at the thought. He grins back at her and she leans in to kiss him, her hands on his face, his resting on her waist briefly before he starts to unbutton his shirt, his mouth still on hers and his tongue sweeping lightly across her bottom lip. Stepping back, she smirks at him and climbs backwards onto the bed, resting on her elbows and looking up at him.

"Keep going," she says, licking her lips slightly. "I'm just going to lie here and watch you get undressed."

"Oh yeah?" He shrugs his shirt off his shoulders and reaches down to unzip his pants, his eyes leaving hers only to roam hungrily down her body, settling briefly on the black lace bra she's currently in danger of spilling out of, before shifting to her legs, stretched out on the bed, her toes curled in anticipation.

"Yeah." Her voice is barely a whisper as he drops his pants to the floor and steps up to the end of the bed.

"Well, I seem to be undressed..." Kicking his pants out from under his feet, he sits on the bed and slips a hand under her knee, lifting her leg and running his tongue slowly up her foot and around her ankle bone until she moans at the contact. "Now what?"

"I don't think you really need to ask..." She stops when his fingers start to tickle the sensitive skin behind her knee, moaning again, louder this time, loud enough that she wishes they had the noise of last weekend's hurricane to drown her out. Taking a breath, she meets his gaze and smiles.

"Something about the next time we're back in this bed, we'll be married?" He moves his hand from her knee higher up her thigh, scooting up the bed to follow its path with his tongue, before shifting to settle between her legs and kissing her.

"Yeah, something like that," she says, between kisses, sliding her arms around him and stroking her hands across his back, thinking about how she can't wait to marry him, to stand beside him and say her vows, and for them to wear matching rings for the rest of their lives.

"What are you thinking so hard about?" As he pulls back to look at her, his eyes dark and a hint of a frown on his face, she realises she had drifted off so she smiles and shakes her head.

"Sorry, I was just thinking about us getting married at last, and I just..." She pauses, swallowing hard to push down the sudden lump in her throat. "God, I don't know what the hell is wrong with me. When the fuck did I get so sentimental?"

"Two days before the wedding, I think sentimental is acceptable." His voice is low, his eyes fixed firmly on hers and his frown lifting when she smiles at him. "But hey, if it's bothering you, I can absolutely distract you with some mind-blowing sex."

"Mind-blowing, huh?" She moves her hands into his hair and pulls him closer, her lips opening against his neck, her mouth savouring the taste of his skin. "Bring it on, Billy."


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Screwing her eyes tightly shut, she waits for what she starts to feel will be the inevitable bang as they hit the runway before bursting into the fireball that will kill them all. She imagines the headlines, the endless dragging up of every little detail of their relationship, she wonders what photos the papers will use, who they will go to for quotes._

As they arrive at the airport, she stifles a yawn. She's been awake since five, completely unable to get another moment of sleep once her eyes were open, she was packed by six, showered and dressed by six thirty, and at seven she was ready, far earlier than she needed to be. Trying to calm her churning stomach, she had ended up sitting in the dining room with a cup of tea in hand (coffee seemed more than her delicate system could handle this morning), scrolling through the news sites until Will finally wandered in.

She has felt fear, she has felt complete and absolute terror, and what she feels now lands firmly in between the two. Her feet stop moving, almost beyond her control, and she reaches for Will, her fingers gripping his arm probably harder than is comfortable.

"Oh no," she says, pausing to breathe, her eyes fixed on the plane ahead of them, Leona and her luggage waiting beside it. "No, I can't...no, just...no."

"Mac?" She hears the hesitation in his voice but she can't tear her eyes from the sight in front of her, even when he repeats her name and covers her hand with his, his fingers moving in soothing strokes across her skin.

"I can't get on that thing." She can't believe she didn't think about this before now, when she was blithely accepting Leona's offer, can't believe this didn't cross her mind for even a moment. "You know I can't get on a plane that small."

"I know you don't like them, but it's, like, a twenty minute flight. We'll be landing before it feels like we've taken off." he says, his hand moving to her shoulder to he can turn her gently to face him. "What? Did you think Leona owned a 737?"

"I didn't really think at all, I just didn't..." She watches as their luggage is loaded, watches her mother giving instructions about what she assumes is her dress, but all she can think about is the small aircraft on the tarmac that she's expected to board in the next few minutes. "I just...I don't want us to die two days before our wedding."

"Honey, we're not going to die on this plane." His thumbs rub across her shoulders and she sighs, wishing she could listen to the part of her brain that recognises the irrational thoughts of the rest, and relax. "It's Leona's plane, and I'm fairly sure she's immortal, so her plane is probably indestructible. And hey, it could be worse, it could be a helicopter."

"I'm kind of okay with helicopters," she says quietly, with a shrug, recalling arriving as an embed and acting like of course she was okay with helicopter flying before spending the entirety of her first flight consumed with sheer panic, her nails digging so hard into her own palm that she had to wipe the blood from them when the helicopter finally landed.

"I'm not going to lie." He pauses, smiling at her with a soft and reassuring smile that makes her want to leap into his arms and stay there until someone makes this damn plane go away. "It's hard to believe you're fine with helicopters but terrified of this. It's like being totally okay with great white sharks but terrified of baby dolphins."

"I wouldn't say I'm exactly fine with helicopters either, I just had to get used to them, I didn't have much choice, I wasn't exactly overwhelmed by alternative transport options in the middle of a war zone." She stops, shaking her head as she once again stares at the plane. "But this is...shit, I really don't think I can get on that."

"I'm slightly concerned you're comparing flying to our wedding to being dropped into a war zone..." He smirks at her and she manages a small smile back at him.

"That's not what I said, and you know it, I just..." She stops and takes a deep breath, grimacing as Leona strides over to where they're standing.

"What's the hold up over here? Are we getting on this plane or not?" Leona's hands are firmly on her hips, her oversized sunglasses preventing anyone seeing what is no doubt the firm frown on her face. "Don't tell me one of you two idiots has had a change of heart. It'd better not be you, McAvoy, or I-"

"It's nothing like that, Leona," she says, shutting her down as politely yet firmly as she can manage. "It's me, I'm a bit...well, I'm not great with small planes. Actually, I'm terrified, I-"

"Well, shit, Mac, I wish you'd have said sooner, I have a stash of awesome valium, perfect for a short flight," Leona says with a sigh. "As it is, even if you took one now, it wouldn't kick in on time and if we don't get on this fucking plane in the next ten minutes we're going to lose our slot. Frankly, if you think I'm taking the train, you're crazier than your damn fiancé."

"Oh God, no, I wouldn't expect everyone to take the train"" She shakes her head and turns to Will. "You can just take my things and I'll get on the train, it'll be fine, I won't get there too much after you, I'll still be there in plenty of time for dinner."

"Alright," he says with a shrug. "Call me when you know what time your train gets in and one of us will come and pick you up."

"Okay, good, thank God," she says, letting out a long sigh of relief, leaning up to kiss him, smiling as she squeezes his hand and pulls away.

"I wasn't even slightly fucking serious." He grabs her hand tighter and pulls her back towards him, his gaze flicking briefly in Leona's direction. "You are not taking the train."

"I really don't mind. I'm completely okay with the train," she says, lacing her fingers through his as she continues. "At least I know I won't get on the train and freak the fuck out, whereas I know I will freak out on that plane, I-"

"Good God!" Leona throws her hands up in the air and turns away, her parting shot thrown over her shoulder. "This plane is leaving in ten minutes with whoever the hell is on it."

"So you're not getting on the plane?" he asks as Leona strides off across the tarmac, a hint of disbelief running through his tone. "You're perfectly happy for me, your parents...hell, your whole damn family to fly while you sit on the train by yourself, is that what you're saying?"

"You're making it sound like I don't want to go with you, and it's not..." She pauses, thinking about what he just said, feeling a fresh onset of panic. "Shit, you're right. I can't let you and my parents and...oh my God, Sheila's having a baby, I can't let my pregnant sister-in-law get on that plane, I'd never forgive myself if anything happened. No, we're all going to need to get the train."

"Sheila is already quite happily on board," he says, taking hold of both her hands and squeezing them softly as he smiles at her. "Along with the rest of your family, and Leona, who's probably losing her fucking shit by now."

"I know you think this is ridiculous," she says, sighing heavily. "I know you think I'm being stupid, and-"

"I don't think you're being stupid at all. Here's what I think..." His thumbs stroke across hers and he smiles again. "I think you've been awake since five this morning, I think we're getting married in two days, and I think all the nerves you've been claiming not to have are manifesting themselves in that fucking plane."

"You going to be billing me for that little therapy session?" she asks, a genuine smile tugging at her lips for the first time since they arrived at the airport.

"I guess that depends if it gets you on the plane." He shrugs and looks down at his watch. "In the next three minutes."

"Billy..." She feels sick, and her stomach is doing somersaults at the thought of it, but she tries to tell herself it's an embarrassingly short flight, that her whole family is on board already, and that she really doesn't want to spend three hours alone on a train when she could be with them, and with Will, who she knows will hold her hand the whole way if she needs him to. "Fine, but if I have a complete meltdown, you were warned."

She feels her legs shaking as she walks up the steps and onto the plane, Will close behind her. She's greeted by her mother's relieved smile, which she gratefully returns before taking a deep breath and sinking into her seat, her hands trembling as she reaches for the seatbelt.

"Finally!" Leona appears in front of her, smirking slightly. "We were just about to start taking bets on whether the bride and groom would be the only two not to make it onto the damn plane."

"Yeah, well..." She can't seem to manage anything else so she gives Leona a wobbly smile and hopes it's enough.

"Here," Leona says, handing her a glass. "It's too late for the Valium so this is the best I can do."

"What is it?" She takes the glass and sniffs, realising instantly what it is.

"It's gin." Leona sounds so matter of fact about it that she almost laughs out loud.

"But it's not even ten in the morning," she says, remembering a time not so long ago when she wouldn't have raised such a protest and feeling thankful that things have changed.

"Your point?" Leona seems confused, no doubt wondering why someone who is almost rigid with fear would be turning down anything that might relax her even slightly.

"I just...it's a little early, I think." She pauses, smiling sheepishly at Leona. "I couldn't even face coffee this morning so I don't think gin is the best idea. Thank you, though."

"Suit yourself," Leona says, taking the glass back from her and slugging it back in a few short mouthfuls before she smiles and heads back to her seat.

Will's hand holds onto hers for the entire flight, and he doesn't flinch when her other hand reaches for him too, settling on his forearm, her thumb rubbing up and down in a repetition that seems to help at least a little. She somehow distracts herself by closing her eyes and pretending they're at home on the couch, watching TV, and she only opens them again when she feels him move closer and press his lips gently against her temple.

"We're almost there," he says quietly, his fingers squeezing hers.

"Thank God." She breathes out, a long sigh of relief that becomes something completely different when she realises that they still have to land, and she's pretty sure the majority of aviation accidents happen on take-off or landing. She needs reassurance, she needs to tell herself it's going to be alright, and she does it aloud. "Okay, Mackenzie, breathe. It's fine, it'll be fine."

"You're worried about the landing?" He's hearing the panic in her voice, she knows it, but she absolutely refuses to freak out here, not with Leona opposite her, and her entire family sitting behind them. "What can I do?"

His voice is low and soothing, and God, there are so many suggestions she could make about how he could ease her anxiety, none of them even slightly appropriate with other people around. Looking up at him, she sees the concern in his eyes and it brings tears to her own so she leans up and kisses him quickly, before he can notice and really start to worry.

"Tell me something I don't know about you," she says as she pulls back, biting her lip, holding it between her teeth as she looks at him.

"There isn't a thing you don't know about me," he says, his eyes fixed firmly on hers. "You know everything there is to know."

"I don't know where you're taking me on honeymoon." She smiles up at him, her sweetest smile, the one he can't usually resist.

"Oh, that's a low blow." He grins at her and runs a finger playfully down her nose as he shakes his head. "I've told you, you'll find out when we get to the airport, not a minute before."

"Here I am, in the throes of abject terror and all." She grins back, clueing him in, she hopes, that she really doesn't want to know, she just needs some distraction to make the next few minutes go quickly and hopefully end with them safely on the ground.

"This is all a ruse, isn't it?" He leans closer again, smiling at her. "You're not scared at all, you just wanted a couple of hours peace and quiet on the train."

"Dammit, you got me," she says, keeping her tone light, but gripping his arm more tightly as they begin their descent. "I'm actually loving every second of this."

"I can tell," he says, eyebrows raised before he glances down at where she's clinging to him, his skin white under the grip of her fingers.

"Oh, holy shit." The plane drops lower and without thinking she turns briefly to the window, something she's managed to avoid, feeling sick as she sees the ground looming under them. "Just in case we're about to die, I love you."

"I love you too," he answers instantly, watching her as she looks away from the window again and back at him. "But we're not about to die."

Screwing her eyes tightly shut, she waits for what she starts to feel will be the inevitable bang as they hit the runway before bursting into the fireball that will kill them all. She imagines the headlines, the endless dragging up of every little detail of their relationship, she wonders what photos the papers will use, who they will go to for quotes. Just as she starts to wish she'd at least drafted a rough version of her own obituary she hears the wheels come down and they bump uneventfully and unexpectedly smoothly onto the ground.

*

Leona appears to have arranged a fleet of cars to collect them and their luggage from the airport and by the time they reach Charlie's house, safely cocooned in the back of an air conditioned Lexus, she's feeling something close to okay again. There's an initial bout of chaos as everyone steps out of the cars, as Leona instructs the driver on whose luggage should go right to the hotel, but eventually they're heading up the driveway to where Charlie and Nancy are standing in the doorway, wide smiles on both of their faces.

"Good flight?" Charlie asks as he steps forward to hug her.

"Well, we didn't die," she says with a shrug, smiling as he squeezes her shoulder.

"Thank God for that!" He grins at the look on her face. "Leona's plane is pretty impressive, right?"

"You know, I really have no idea." She's embarrassed to realise she really didn't notice the plane at all, although she has no doubt that he's right. "I had my eyes closed for most of the flight."

"You do look a little pale, Mac," Nancy says, running a hand down her arm as they head into the house. "I don't do well with small planes either. Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm okay," she says, smiling at Nancy, her smile growing wider when she spots Ned in the hallway, grinning at her. "Hey, is that my little buddy Ned I see over there?"

"You're here!" The little boy runs towards her excitedly, reaching for her and giggling when she scoops him up.

"Did you get even more grown up since last time we were here?" she asks him, smiling at Will when she sees him glance over at her. "You must be what now? Seven? Eight?"

"You're silly, Mackenzie, I'm really still four," Ned says, giggling again.

"Well, if you say so..." she says, ruffling his hair. "You've definitely grown taller though."

"Mommy says if I eat all my vegetables I'll get real tall, so I eat peas now, and I don't even like them." Ned sounds so horrified by the very idea of eating peas that it makes her smile again. "Beau says you came here on a plane!"

"We did," she says. "How did you get here?"

"In Grandpa's car," Ned says, his hand reaching for her necklace almost unconsciously, taking hold of one of the coins and running his fingers over it. "I was waiting for you for a really long time, and I've been walking slowly like grandma showed me, and I'm so good at it now."

"Grandma's been showing you how to walk for when you carry the ring on Saturday?" she asks, feeling suddenly emotional again as she thinks about the wedding and how lucky she is to have everybody here.

"Yep!" Ned sounds so proud of himself as he grins at her, and she sees now how excited he is to have been given the ring bearer's job. "I'm real good at it, I'll show you later."

"Oh, I'm sure you're very good," she says, running her fingers briefly through his hair one more time before she puts him back down on the floor and takes his hand to follow Charlie and Nancy into the kitchen. "We picked the best man for the job, Ned."

On the table there is coffee, tea, at least three kinds of juice, a spread of pastries and bagels, plus a huge platter of fruit. Her siblings have always managed to gravitate to wherever the food is, and today is no exception as they descend on the room, thanking Nancy enthusiastically as they head towards the table. She's thinking about eating something too, now that her stomach has ceased its terrified whirling, when she spots Beau, nervously hanging back in the doorway as he watches the scrum for brunch, and she walks over to him.

"Please tell me someone warned you about my family showing up and causing total chaos?" She smiles at him and he blushes as he smiles back and nods.

"Kind of," he says, looking over at where Harriet seems to have piled enough food for about four people onto a plate and her mother appears to be spoiled for choice. "I mean, my grandpa said you had, like, a bunch of sisters, yeah."

"They're much less scary after they've been fed, I promise," she says, pleased when he lets out a small huff of laughter. "How are you doing, Beau?"

"Oh...I'm good, thanks." He sounds so momentarily surprised by her question that she wonders how hard it is for him as the quiet older brother, eclipsed somewhat by the younger, noisier Ned. "Are you...nervous? About the wedding? I mean, like, it's kind of big deal, getting married, I guess."

"It is a big deal." She smiles at him, pausing for a second as she watches her father decide on a bagel which she's fairly sure her mother will decide she wants in about thirty seconds, right around the time he's finished covering it in cream cheese. "I'm excited, but not nervous, not really. I can't promise I won't shit a brick on the day though."

"Like an exam, where you think nah, I'm cool, and then you turn the paper over and you're not cool at all," he says, visibly relaxing in her company just as he did the last time she was here.

"Exactly like that," she says, nodding in the direction of where her sisters are clustered together with their various plates of breakfast food. "I'll give you the lowdown on who's who, shall I?"

"Your sisters?" Beau looks across at the McHale girls and then turns back and nods. "Yeah, sure."

"First things first, no matter what any of them tries to tell you, I'm the coolest sister without a doubt." She smirks at him and his cheeks colour slightly again as she continues. "On the left, the tall one, that's Harry- Harriet, really, but she's always been Harry. She's the only other one who lives over here, in Boston. Next to her is Cat, who says if she had a dollar for every time someone said 'but you're blonde' she'd be a millionaire."

"So I might not want to open with that?" he asks with a hint of a grin playing across his lips.

"I wouldn't," she says, returning his grin. "Frankie is the youngest, ten years younger than me, and the quietest of all of us. Probably because she didn't have much choice with the rest of us, I guess. Oh, and do you see the tall dark haired guy at the other end of the table?"

"That's your brother, right?" His eyes flit from the girls across to where Rufus is standing with Sheila, his hand resting on her shoulder as she nibbles on a pastry. "And his wife?"

"Yep, that's Rufus and Sheila." She nods, the low growl of her stomach reminding her she really should eat something. "And the woman currently stealing the bagel from that poor man's plate is my mum, Penny. The poor man in question is Robert, my dad. And that's everyone."

"Wow," he says, sounding overwhelmed, reminding her of Will when he found out she had four siblings after having made the assumption she was an only child. "I'm never going to remember all their names though."

"Oh God, I wouldn't worry," she says, letting out a snort. "I'm still not sure Will remembers which is which either. I think he's just become much better at talking a good game. Alright, I'm starving, let's get some breakfast and I'll introduce you properly."

*

"Sure you have enough there, Mac?" Charlie walks over to her, grinning as he looks at her plate piled high with fruit, a cinnamon roll balanced on the side.

"I think now the terror of the flight is over, I've realised how hungry I am," she says with a smile. "And this is an impressive spread. One that won't last long now that my family is on it, but still..."

"Eh, it's there to be eaten," he says, taking a sip from his coffee, looking at her over the top of the mug. "You holding up okay? There's a lot going on, is all I mean."

"I'm fine, I'm just grateful to you and Nancy for putting up with everyone." She smiles again and glances over at where Beau is talking to Frankie.

"Looks like there's a little crush developing over there." He grins at the blush spreading across Beau's cheeks as Frankie leans closer and smiles at him.

"He's moving on," she says, picking a strawberry up from her plate as she smiles at him. "I get it, I'm too old for him, I'm getting married in two days, it's only fair."

"That may be true, but you'll always be Ned's favourite," he nudges her and she laughs.

"Have you just sent Beau into the lion's den over there?" Will walks in, eyebrows raised, waiting as she pops the strawberry into her mouth and chews slowly.

"Are you referring to my sisters?" she asks, handing him her plate so she can pick up the cinnamon roll and break a piece off.

"I absolutely am," he says with a nod, his hand sliding around her waist, his thumb hooking into her back pocket and his fingers stroking her backside. "I got to meet them one by one, and over several months, he's being exposed to them all at once. I know you don't get it because you're one of them, but honey, the McHales are pretty damn fierce."

"I admire your continued commitment to the lion references." She pauses to lick the frosting from the top of the chunk of cinnamon roll in her hand, aware of his eyes following her tongue. "Thing is, Billy, you're a big old teddy bear. Maybe Beau is just a whole lot tougher than you."

"I feel it my duty as your mother to tell you that you are being manhandled, Mackenzie." Penny's voice appears behind her, and she realises she hadn't even noticed her mother wasn't at the breakfast table with everyone else.

"I appreciate the warning, but I'm okay with it," she says, smiling up at Will as his hand slides a fraction lower.

"I should think so too. If your fiancé can't touch you up two days before your wedding, then really there wouldn't be any point in marriage at all." Penny moves to stand beside Will, smirking at both of them. "I think young Beau has taken quite a shine to Frankie. How sweet."

"He was asking her about school because I told him she studied history." She raises her eyebrows in her mother's direction. "Don't say anything, Mum, you'll embarrass the poor boy."

"It rather looks like Harry may have just managed that," Penny says, watching as a flushed Beau steps away from the table, giving Harriet a nervous smile before he heads over to where they're standing.

"Wow, Mac, Harry is, like...really American!" Beau says, his wide eyes making her smile. 

"Well, technically, so am I," she says with a shrug.

"Actually, I have more American children than not, which is rather bizarre, really." Penny speaks up, grinning widely at Beau. "So bizarre I'm going to need to have a cinnamon roll to balance out the peculiar. Come on, young chap, I'm going to need an extra pair of hands if I'm to manage a coffee too."

"You're marrying into this," Charlie says, turning to Will, the cheerful grin on his face matched by Will's. "You're a lucky guy, my friend!"


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _She has thrown Will's jeans and her own over the back of the chair in the corner of the room and is just pulling out anything else that might wrinkle out of the suitcase when she hears the door open. When she turns, she's surprised to see Ned standing in the doorway, a holding a book firmly in his hands._

"So, I put the two of you back in your room from last time," Nancy says, smiling at her. "I hope that's okay with you."

"Perfect, thanks," she says, nodding and blushing faintly as she remembers their last stay, how she worried about the slightly squeaky bed and snuck Will out of her room the next morning, only to be ratted out totally innocently by Ned. "I'll take our bags up there out of the way."

"Your dress is in our room though," Nancy says, gesturing vaguely at the stairs. "Your mom didn't think Will would be able to resist a peek if it was hanging in your room."

"Just because she wouldn't be able to if she hadn't already seen it, she thinks everyone's the same." She grins at Nancy, shaking her head. "Of course, she's also massively underestimating Will's rampantly superstitious nature. He wouldn't look at the dress before Saturday if you paid him."

"Well, I'm glad to hear it." Nancy smiles and turns back towards the kitchen.

She has thrown Will's jeans and her own over the back of the chair in the corner of the room and is just pulling out anything else that might wrinkle out of the suitcase when she hears the door open. When she turns, she's surprised to see Ned standing in the doorway, a holding a book firmly in his hands.

"Hey Ned." She smiles at him, watching as he steps just inside the room. "Is the wedding today?" he asks, a frown creasing his little forehead.

"No, not today," she says, shaking her head and beckoning to him. "You can come in if you want to."

"Is it the next day after today?" He moves over to where she's standing, scratching his head as he looks at her.

"Tomorrow?" The concentration on his face is adorable, he clearly knows the wedding is soon but can't quite figure out when.

"Yeah." He nods enthusiastically at her. "Is that when it is?"

"Not quite, sweetie." She remembers Nancy telling her how excited he was about the wedding and it seems she was right. "It's the day after that, so it's really not very long at all. It's two more sleeps. So tonight you'll go to bed and tomorrow night you'll go to bed, and after that it will be the day."

"Okay," he says, the curious look on his face making her smile. "What are you doing?

"Oh, nothing much, just taking some of these things out of the suitcase so they don't crease," she says, draping two shirts, one Will's and the other her own, carefully over the chair.

"Why do people have weddings?" He looks up at her, his eyes wide as he waits for her answer.

"Well, when two people really love each other..." She pauses, realising she isn't really equipped for these sorts of questions, clueless really as to how much detail a four-year-old needs, before deciding probably not much. "They decide they want to be together forever, and that's what weddings are for, so that they can say how much they love each other with all their friends and family there too."

"And you can do kisses," he says with a small shrug. "You and Will can do kisses all the time when you've had a wedding, right?"

"I...guess we can, honey, yes." She smiles and points at his book. "What do you have there?"

"A new book," he says, holding it up with a grin. "Grandma bought it for me, because I did the walking with the ring, and I was good and quiet while she was on the phone to the cake lady."

"Did you read it yet?" she asks, sitting down on the bed, smiling as he climbs up beside her.

"Nope." He shakes his head and smiles up at her. "Would you read it to me?"

"Sure." She smiles and takes the book out of his hand, looking at the cover, an illustration of a little boy and a penguin. "We should get comfortable, right?"

"Yeah!" He scrambles back across the bed, lying back against the plumped up pillows, grinning at her as she takes off her shoes and moves beside him, opening the book.

"Once there was a boy..." She starts to read, pausing as Ned's hand moves to her arm, his little fingers warm against her skin. Clearing her throat slightly, she continues. "Who found a penguin at his door."

It's an adorable story about a boy and a lost penguin, and Ned seems to be enjoying it until she has to pause halfway through to yawn, suddenly tired and so comfortable against the pillows that she wonders if he would notice if she fell asleep.

"Don't stop reading, Mac, I don't think it's done yet." The small elbow nudging her gently in the ribs answers her question so she smiles at him and turns the page, somehow managing to finish the book despite her tiredness combined with a lump in her throat at the sweetness of the ending.

"You know what I think would be really good now?" She lays back further against the pillows, turning to look at Ned, his eyebrows raised waiting for her suggestion. "A nap. I think a nap would be so nice."

"I don't need to nap in the middle of the day, I'm not a baby!" He sits up suddenly and looks at her, an expression of pure disbelief on his face. "I'm going to tell Grandma we read the story and the boy and the penguin are going to be best friends."

"Mmm, good plan, sweetie, I'll be right down," she murmurs, closing her eyes, just for a minute, she thinks.

She wakes up because the weight beside her on the bed is definitely not that of a four-year-old, and when she opens her eyes to find Will watching her, wearing an amused smirk, she realises it's been more than just a minute.

"Hey," he says quietly, watching her as she sits up, blinking blearily at him.

"I thought I'd just close my eyes for a few minutes..." she says, looking down at her watch and smiling sheepishly at him. "God, it's nearly four! Shit, you should have woken me, Billy!"

"Why?" He shrugs and reaches for her hand, pulling it to him, onto his thigh. "The only thing you're missing is Leona and your Mom starting a fairly ferocious game of poker, giving Beau a break from your sisters taking it in turns to embarrass him. If you want to nap, then hell, nap."

"I'm awake now." She pulls her hand back from his and smiles at him as she runs her fingers through her hair, smoothing it down as best she can. "God, I don't know why I'm so tired. Ned had the right idea, he looked at me like I was crazy when I suggested he take a nap."

"Yeah, he mentioned that," he says with a grin. "'Mackenzie said I should nap but I told her I'm not a baby.'"

"It's funny, isn't it?" She climbs down slowly off the bed and reaches into her bag for a comb before stepping in front of the mirror to tidy her hair properly. "You can't pay kids to sleep but as adults we'd give anything for daily naps."

"You're feeling okay, right?" He stands up and walks over to her, looking at her in the mirror and frowning faintly as he speaks.

"I'm fine," she says, putting down the comb and turning around to face him. "I think it's just been such a busy few weeks and now it seems to be catching up with me. If I sleep my way through our honeymoon, you're just going to have to keep prodding me."

"Was that a segue into yet another not so subtle attempt to find out where we're going?" he asks, grinning as she shakes her head.

"No, actually, I've decided not to bother with that anymore." She reaches for his hand and starts to pull him towards the door. "I'll be happy with wherever we go."

"As long as there's a bed, right?" He grins again. "You know, for your scheduled nap times."

"Well, it'd be a disappointing honeymoon without a bed, wouldn't it?" She quirks an eyebrow and leans up to kiss him. "We should go and make sure my mum hasn't run out of money and started promising her daughters to Leona if she loses."

"Yeah." He nods and squeezes her hand. "It was getting pretty intense down there." 

"Thank God Sloan isn't here yet," she says, sighing. "It would be way beyond intense." 

"Sloan's good?" he asks, confusion in his tone.

"Sloan's amazing. I mean, if she wasn't an economics genius she could make a seriously good living as a pro poker player." She watches the genuine surprise on his face and it makes her laugh. "I once lost a pair of Louboutins in a poker game with Sloan, and we don't even wear the same size. She said she was keeping them anyway, on principle."

"Seriously, honey, do not let her near your mother and Leona when she gets here," he says firmly. "Someone will end up losing their fucking house."

"I feel like keeping them apart might prove tricky." She opens the door, stopping and turning back to him. "Misplacing the cards at some point before she arrives could be the way to go, I think."

"Deal." He nods again. "See what I did there?" 

"Accidentally?" She grins and pulls him out into the hallway. 

"Totally." He laughs and follows her towards the stairs.

*

"Hey." Harriet catches hold of her arm as they're all heading out into the deck after dinner. "You've been waking up crazy fucking early this week, right?"

"Yeah," she says, nodding at her sister. "I mean, I always wake up early, you know that, but yeah, this week I just can't get back to sleep once I'm awake. Why?"

"Do you have sneakers with you?" Harriet asks.

"I do," she answers, smiling. "I thought I might need them on Sunday after being in my heels for God knows how many hours on Saturday."

"Good thinking, Trip." Harriet grins and goes on. "I was going to go for a run early tomorrow. Text me if you're awake and I'll swing by this way and you can come with me, yeah?"

"Sure," she says, frowning when she remembers Harriet is training for a half marathon. "I'm not in training for anything though, so I'm not running, like, ten miles at eight in the morning the day before my wedding."

"Fair enough," Harriet says with a shrug, her eyes lighting up when she spots the champagne bottles on the table, glasses already poured. "Ooh, bubbly, awesome!"

Picking up two glasses, she sits down on the bench next to Will and hands one to him before taking a sip from the other. She pulls her legs up beside her, curling against him, her hand coming to rest on his thigh. Glancing up at where her mother sits with Leona and Nancy, she sees the three of them giggling like teenagers and feels a current of trepidation run through her.

"Should I be afraid?" Will nudges her and she knows he's spotted them too.

"I think we both should be," she says, watching as he drains his glass in three large gulps. "Slow down though, I have plans for you later that don't involve you falling into a champagne coma."

"You do, huh?" He lowers his voice and her hand moves instinctively across his thigh, coming to rest slightly higher. "I like the sound of that."

"Mmm." She pauses to take another sip from her glass, turning to look up at him. "I hoped you might."

"So..." Penny's voice rings out across the deck and it's a tone her daughters are more than familiar with. "My eldest daughter, who is not and has never been shy in the slightest, somehow turns incredibly coy when I ask her about Fourth of July weekend. Perhaps you can fill in the gaps, Nancy."

"Gaps?" Nancy asks, either trying to spare their blushes or genuinely unsure of what Penny wants to know. "In what sense?"

"Well, we didn't even know she was spending the weekend here until Robert called." Penny pauses, her gaze shifting to where they sit opposite her, a trace of a smirk proving that she has no intention of letting Nancy off the hook. "So I'm sure you can imagine our surprise when we discovered she was in the car, and with Will."

"No, I guess it wasn't quite what you were expecting," Nancy says, smiling at Penny. "Well, at that point I'd only met Mackenzie a few times and I thought it would be nice to spend some time with her, and we'd already invited Will so we thought we'd see if she was free too, and thankfully she hadn't already made plans."

"Wait..." Harriet speaks up, looking across at her. "You knew Will was coming already? Wow, good work, Trip."

"Yes, I knew he was...hang on, what do you mean?" She frowns at her sister, whose smirk is now matching their mother's.

"I mean...nice seduction job, sis," Harriet says, raising her eyebrows. "You were both going to be at the beach, nice and relaxed, you in your shorts-"

"That's not how it was at all," she says, cutting Harriet off quickly and looking to her other sisters for help but finding only their curious faces looking back at her. "God, you're making it sound like I sauntered up here in my shorts and threw myself at him, and that's not how it was at all."

"It really wasn't." Nancy steps in, smiling at her before turning to Harriet. "It took a little push from me before she threw herself at him."

"I really didn't throw myself at him." She pauses, turning to Will. "Feel free to jump in at any point here."

"Sorry, you lost me at the reminder of your shorts." He covers her hand with his and she hears a snort that sounds suspiciously like Leona's.

"Well, you do have quite the legs, darling," Penny says, grinning over at her but switching her attention almost immediately back to Nancy. "Well done, by the way, on giving her the push she very clearly needed. Lord only knows how long they would have dragged this sorry tale out, had you not."

"You do know we're sitting right here, Mum?" she asks with a sigh.

"Yes, Mackie, I can see that, but you're telling me nothing so I have to go elsewhere for my information." Penny shrugs, her enjoyment at making her squirm very obvious.

"I would also like to remind you that I'm the bride," she states loudly, managing to hush her mother. "I'm supposed to be the one everyone's being nice to, not the one being interrogated."

"Oh, I'd long given up on interrogating you," Penny says, her smile more gentle. "You can't have failed to notice I'd moved on to Nancy, who was doing a rather fine job of it until you got so uppity."

"Alright, listen, I have a nice thing for the bride...and the groom, I guess." Leona says, grinning at them before she leans forward to pick up another glass of champagne, waiting until she has everyone's attention, as only Leona can. "I know I told you I'd booked you a room at the hotel for Saturday night, but that's not strictly true. I actually booked you one of the cottages. Private, secluded, so you can make as much wedding night noise as you like and you won't be bothering a soul."

"You booked...one of the cottages?" She's looked at the cottages online and they're gorgeous. Right on the sand, each with a private terrace, and best of all they're set alone, no adjoining rooms, nobody to disturb them or be disturbed by them. Right now, it sounds like heaven. "For us? Really?"

"Yeah, I figured you've had a house full of family all week, you could probably use some real alone time for your wedding night," Leona says with a faint shrug. "Sit naked on the terrace, swing from the light fittings, make a shit ton of noise, whatever, it's yours for the taking Saturday night. Although if you break the damn light fittings, McAvoy there can cover that."

"Wow," she says, floored once again by Leona's generosity and trying to ignore the comment about the light fittings. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Leona says with a nod. "Now, I don't know about the rest of you but I'd like to look my usual flawless best for the next couple of days, so I'm going to need my beauty sleep."

"I'm pretty done in, if I'm honest," Robert says, looking over and smiling at her and Will before patting Penny gently on the knee.

"Charlie and Nancy are probably about ready for some quiet too," Leona continues, smiling at them and turning to her phone, sending a quick message. "And the almost McAvoys there should get to bed too, get some...sleep."

"How far is the hotel from here?" Cat speaks up, looking at Leona. "Can we walk?"

"Walk?" Leona looks at her in disbelief. "God no, honey. Do you want to break an ankle walking down some dirt track at ten o'clock at night? Because I sure as hell don't. There'll be a couple of cars here in a few minutes to take us all over there."

Good on her word, Leona's cars arrive and there's a flurry of goodbyes, hugs, and kisses, before suddenly it's just the four of them left on the deck, just like the last time they were here. Charlie steps forward and kisses her on the cheek, smiling as he pulls back.

"Get some sleep, you two," he says kindly. "I have a feeling you're barely going to have time to think for the next couple of days."

"I think you're probably right." She smiles at him and feels Will's arm slip around her shoulder, pulling her closer. "Goodnight."

*

When she comes out of the bathroom, he’s stretched out on the bed, wearing a t-shirt and boxers, his face creased in concentration as he reads, the book propped up on his knees. Her phone buzzes on top of the chest of drawers and she reaches for it, sliding her glasses on first, conceding to the need for them in the dim light of the bedroom. She scrolls quickly through her emails, deleting the nonsense and flagging up a couple to look at in the morning before putting the phone down and stepping forward to stand at the foot of the bed.

He glances up from the book and smiles at her, a smile that reminds her of how much he likes it when she wears her glasses, even if all they do for her is make her aware of her gradual failings as she moves rapidly through her thirties. Thinking about it, she sighs and he grins, more than likely knowing exactly what she’s thinking, she’s certainly complained enough about how much she needs to wear them these days.

“I know you think they make you look old,” he says, pausing as he puts the book down beside the bed and then looks back up at her. “But they don’t, honey, they really, really don’t.”

“I don’t think they necessarily make me look old,” she says, shrugging as she unbuttons her shirt and drops it to the floor. “They just make me feel old.”

“That’s why you have me.” He grins and his eyes move to her bra, skimming down to her stomach and her thighs, before moving back up to her face. “To make you feel young.”

“That’s true.” She climbs onto the bed, crawling up to where he’s sitting and settling herself in his lap, resting back slightly onto his thighs as her hands move onto his shoulders. “Hi…”

“Hey,” he says as he slides his fingers slowly onto her cheeks and gently takes off her glasses, folding them carefully and setting them down on top of his book. “Wouldn't want these steaming up..."

“Mmm.” She grins at him and leans forward to kiss him, slowly and softly, her tongue moving across his top lip. "Confident tonight, are we?"

“You’re marrying me, aren’t you?” He smiles as she nods, sliding his arms around her, his hands warm against her back. “I figure I must be doing something right.”

“Yeah, I am marrying you,” she says, squirming as his fingers find the clasp of her bra and he unhooks it, waiting as she pulls the straps down and throws it somewhere over the side of the bed. “You do okay.”

“Okay? I do okay?!” He raises his eyebrows and dips his head, running his tongue around her earlobe, nibbling slightly until she giggles. “Oh, I’ll show you okay.”

“Please do,” she murmurs, pushing her fingers into his hair and tugging at him until he looks up at her. “But I have a wedding dress to wear on Saturday that has a deep neckline to die for, and I don't want any marks, so you’re going to need to go lower.”

“Oh yeah?” he smirks and ducks his head, his lips landing on her collarbone, a hot, open-mouthed kiss making her moan. “Low enough?”

“Not quite…” She breathes out, closing her eyes as he follows her instruction, his hands drifting lower as his mouth moves to hers and his tongue slides slowly between her lips.

She feels one hand on her ribs, his thumb dancing lightly across her skin as she kisses him harder, relieved that the moan she lets out in response to his touch is muffled against him. His other hand moves down her arm and he pulls his lips from hers to look into her eyes, his gaze soft, his blue eyes darker than usual, and when she rocks instinctively against him he lets out a long, low groan.

Closing her eyes, she leans into him and shifts higher up his thighs, biting her lip as a warmth spreads through her and settles between her legs, a moan escaping as he tilts his hips under her and pushes his growing hardness against her. When his hand brushes her breast and he flattens his palm across her nipple, the sensation is somehow too much and she flinches, opening her eyes and attempting a smile when she sees the panic on his face.

"Mac?" His tone is hesitant and he moves his hand from her breast and laces his fingers through hers, watching her expectantly.

"You don't get to quit yet, Billy." She squeezes his fingers and smiles.

"You're in no danger of that," he says, leaning forward to kiss her. "But...what the hell was that about?"

"I don't know, I just feel...they're sensitive right now, I guess," she says with a slight shrug. "It wasn't you."

She can't help thinking about how unfair it would be for her erratic cycle to hit her with a period just in time for her wedding, for their night in the cottage to be not quite as special as it could be...spending it with cramps and a supply of painkillers wasn't exactly what she had hoped for.

"Is it one or both?" he asks, his eyes flicking down towards her chest.

"I think..." She stops as he dips his head and runs his tongue around her nipple, so tenderly he's barely touching her at all, but it's still too much and she pulls on his hair just enough for him to stop. "Shit, I think that answers your question."

"I guess I'll just keep going lower," he says, sliding his hands down her back and into her panties. "These are going to need to come off though."

"These too." Reaching forward, she runs her hand slowly down the front of his shorts and back up again, lingering over the obvious bulge, grinning at the dismay on his face when she climbs out of his lap.

She reclines against the pillow next to him, turning to look into his eyes as she lifts her legs and drags her panties off, kicking them somewhere towards the end of the bed. It takes him a few seconds but when he catches up and pulls his shorts off, her eyes drift down, her stomach muscles contracting when she sees how hard he is.

"See anything you like or are you just window shopping?" His voice is low, deeper than usual, and it runs through her as she moves to straddle him again, this time with no underwear impeding her.

"What do you think?" Lifting herself slightly, she takes hold of the headboard behind him and moves higher up his body, hearing the catch in his breath as he feels how wet she is as she slides against him.

"I think..." His words are lost to the groan he lets out when she takes one hand from the headboard to stroke slowly up and down his hard length, leaning in to kiss him, nibbling softly on his bottom lip before pulling back to focus her gaze on him. "I think...I don't know how the fuck I ended up with you, Mackenzie."

"All the cheerleaders were taken?" Smiling at him, she guides him inside her, her other hand moving to grip his shoulder as she sinks down onto him, and this time the feeling as her hard nipples brush against his chest is on the pleasurable edge of painful.

"Guess so..." His fingers trail down her spine, across her shoulder blades, to the nape of her neck, and she starts to move as he breathes the rest of his words. "Thank God."

Resting her hands on his face, she runs her thumbs across his cheekbones, her eyes fixed on his as she moves, slowly at first, the silence of the bedroom broken only by the sound of their bodies moving together, of their laboured breaths. Kissing him, she picks up speed slightly, her tongue sliding against his and their moans mingling as he pushes deeper into her. Her fingers move into his hair and when his hands settle on her shoulder blades she arches her back and pulls her lips from his, barely able to breathe as she keeps moving, moaning loudly as his tongue runs up the side of her neck. Leaning back further, she braces herself against his thighs, aware of his gaze shifting to her breasts, plainly appreciating the view she's giving him even if they are off limits to anything more than his eyes tonight. She's aware too of the noise the bed has started to make, the same rhythmic squeaking that she was so embarrassed about last time. This time though she really doesn't care, he feels way too good inside her for her to even think about slowing down, and she's pretty damn sure nobody can hear them anyway. When he slips two fingers into his mouth, an involuntary whimper escapes her as she anticipates what he's about to do and her hands grasp his thigh hard as she's proved right.

"Oh, holy shit..." She can manage nothing more, and her teeth pull her bottom lip into her mouth as his fingers move against her, sliding slowly through her wetness.

"Just think...the next time I make you come we'll be married." His fingers move in circles at the same time as he thrusts deeper into her and she has to remind herself to breathe.

"Can't...think...right now," she says as the ache at her core builds under his fingers, the desperate yearning almost too much. "But yeah..."

He knows what she needs, as he always does, and he increases the pressure, his fingers moving harder and faster against her, eliciting a loud, ragged moan that's she's completely unable to contain. His eyes flick again down to her nipples, hard and pink, pushing up towards him, a flush spreading across her chest as she feels her orgasm building and her stomach muscles tightening almost into a cramp. When she comes it's so hard and with such intensity that her eyes drift shut and she sees spots dancing in front of her, like she accidentally looked at the sun for too long. He stills his fingers but keeps them pressed flat against her and she feels herself throbbing hard into his touch.

Catching her breath, she tilts forward and starts to circle her hips slowly, holding onto his shoulders, her eyes just a fraction from his and their lips close but not quite touching. He breathes out, a long, ragged breath and then whispers her name and slides his hand into her hair, cupping the base of her skull as he comes, spilling into her with a low, deep groan. Moving her hands down his arms, her lips press against his and she closes her eyes as he runs his tongue slowly across her top lip before sliding it into her mouth. Of all the things she missed when they were apart, and there were plenty, it was his kisses she missed more than anything. The taste of him, his breath mingling with hers, the feel of his fingers tangled in her hair, the way his eyes stay fixed on hers even when their lips pull apart. Just like he does now, his thumbs rubbing gently across her cheekbones, a slow smile appearing on his face as he watches her leaning slowly forward again to rub her nose softly against his.

"I think we did our unmarried selves pretty proud just then," she says, sighing happily, savouring the final few seconds of him still being inside her before she knows she'll need to move.

"Agreed," He pauses as she shifts for him to slip slowly out of her, his gaze drifting briefly down to her breasts again as she settles back onto his thighs. "And two nights from now we'll take one for the married team."

"Just one?" She smirks at him and runs her thumb slowly across his bottom lip. "I know you're more ambitious than that."

"Oh, I am," he says, pursing his lips and kissing her thumb. "But quality is better than quantity, right?"

"All this time I've been applying that principle to our show and your precious viewers, and finally it's sinking in," she says, sighing as his finger strokes tenderly up her back. "I should've climbed naked into your lap a year ago."

"Yeah, maybe you should." There's a sadness to his tone and he looks like he's about to say something else so she raises her eyebrows and smiles at him.

"Doesn't matter. I'm here now, that's all that matters." She kisses his cheek, moves her lips slowly to his jaw, lingering for a few long seconds before pulling back. "I'm going to the bathroom, and then I'm going to curl up on top of you like a kitten on a rug, and we're going to sleep for hours."

When she walks back into the bedroom, hair pulled back into a loose knot at the nape of her neck, shorts and a tank thrown on, he has the sheets pulled back and is half reclined against the pillows, boxers on but still shirtless. It makes her smile because she loves to snuggle against his bare chest, running her fingers through the light hairs, feeling his warm skin under her cheek. He smiles back at her and she climbs into bed beside him. Sliding his arm around her shoulder, he pulls her close to him and she feels him drop a kiss to the top of her head.

"Two more sleeps," she murmurs, running her hand across his chest. 

"Hmm?" His hand covers hers and she can hear the smile in his question.

"It's what I told Ned when he couldn't figure out when the wedding was." She laces her fingers through his and lets out a tired but happy sigh at the thought of it.

"Two more sleeps it is." He squeezes her fingers and she feels her eyes drift slowly shut. "Goodnight, honey."


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _In the car she realises it's the first time in a while she's spent any time alone with Charlie, especially in the last few days when everything has been such a whirlwind of activity. She knows how much it means to Will for him to be his best man, and it means the same to her to have him stand up there beside them, because she's almost certain that the wedding wouldn't be happening at all if it hadn't been for Charlie taking a chance on her._

The second she opens her eyes, she knows there isn't a chance in hell she's going to drag herself out of bed to go for a run with Harry. She's way too comfortable curled up against Will, listening to his slow, even breathing, her hand on his chest, its steady rise and fall lulling her into a blissful calm. Tomorrow she'll wake up alone and even though they've only been sharing a bed again for a couple of months, she knows it will feel odd not having him there. He's warm and comforting and he doesn't object to the nights she feels the need to drape herself across him, nor does he question the nights she curls up tightly into a ball on her own side of the bed. She's usually the first one awake and she loves it when she feels him stir, hears the change in his breathing that tells her if she looks up she'll be on the receiving end of his bleary gaze as he awakens, his eyes bluer than ever in the morning light. He's clearly in a deep sleep this morning, she got up to go to the bathroom a while ago and he didn't flinch as she rolled off him and padded softly across the room.

She kisses his chest softly, licking her lips against her dry morning mouth, thinking how much she'd love something to drink, if she could just muster up the energy to move. God, she hopes the honeymoon rejuvenates her, hopes that ten days of what she assumes will be relaxation somewhere warm and quiet is what she needs to combat the tiredness she just can't seem to overcome lately. It hits her again that tomorrow they'll be married. She gets to wear her dress, her family is here, and their friends (even Will grudgingly admits that their News Night staff members are much more than just colleagues now), and finally they get to say "I do." As it has every morning this week, her stomach flips over in anticipation and excitement, and she can only imagine how it's going to be tomorrow morning. She's thankful her sisters are here, Cat and Frankie, both experts in reigning in both Harry and their mother, and Sheila too, the sister-in-law who fitted so seamlessly into the family that she earned everyone's admiration from the start. Now she's about to add to the family, to bring a new McHale into the world, a first niece or nephew for all of the girls, and the first grandchild her parents will dote on. She wonders if one by one her sisters will start to get married, have families (with the possible exception of Harry who has always said that isn't what she wants) and she'll be watching from the sidelines, delighted to be an aunt but sad that she was never a mother.

She quickly turns her thoughts back to the wedding, determined not to lie here thinking anything other than good things. She thinks about her dress, about how much she loves it, and how she hopes Will loves how she looks in it when she walks towards him tomorrow. Sloan, Jim, Maggie, Don...she thinks about them all, arriving this evening, all giddy at the news that Leona's housing them all at the hotel, all excited to share in their big day. Even Jim, who had admitted to reservations, had told her quite honestly that she deserves the best and that as far as he could see, Will hadn't exactly done a great job of proving himself worthy. She had taken him out for coffee and reminded him of how long she'd been in love with Will, told him that Will has a side that other people don't see and that he is the best, the only one for her. He had slowly but surely eased up after that, and she would catch him glancing at the two of them, his frowns becoming less frequent, his smiles more natural. One night at the bar after a few drinks he had shaken Will's hand, kissed her on the cheek, and left, leaving her with a huge grin on her face, and Will completely baffled. She smiles again as she thinks about it, how important it had been to know that Jim was happy for her, and how relieved she felt when it was clear he was.

Her thirst can be battled no more, so she reluctantly runs a hand across his chest again and peels herself away from his side. At the foot of the bed, she picks up her phone and sends a message to Harriet, 'Sorry I didn't make it for a run, was too comfy to move...come over for coffee if you're around though, x', before pulling on her light cotton robe and sliding the phone into the pocket. She takes a few seconds to just watch him sleep some more, his hair askew, his face soft in relaxation, and the temptation to wake him up is almost too much but she knows he's tired too, so she lets him sleep and tiptoes from the room.

Walking into the kitchen, she smells coffee and she isn't surprised to see Nancy sitting at the table. She is, however, completely thrown by the sight of Harriet sitting opposite her, a coffee and the remnants of a bagel on a plate in front of her.

"I just texted you," she says, confused for a second before she realises that was two minutes ago so Harriet's arrival can't possibly be in response to her message. "But...you were already here, I guess."

"Yep." Harriet nods, grinning at her. "I hadn't heard from you so I figured you weren't up for running, so when I came back this way I thought I'd stop, see if anyone was up. Scared the shit out of Nancy, I think, coming around the back and peering through the doors. Didn't want to knock though and wake the whole damn house."

"Sorry, I did think I might run, but I was tired, and comfy, you know." She shrugs and heads for the fridge to grab some water before she sits down at the table with them.

"Yeah, I do know." Harriet smirks and takes a sip from her mug. "You have that big McAvoy pillow now, I get it."

"There's plenty of coffee left, Mac," Nancy says, smiling at her. "And bagels, fruit, help yourself to whatever you'd like."

"Thanks, I will, but I'm okay for now," she says, briefly pondering breakfast before her stomach makes it clear it isn't ready quite yet. If her stomach would just calm down in the mornings so she could reach for the coffee like she usually does, she'd be happy.

"So..." Harriet starts, grinning at her in the way that suggests she's about to start grilling her about something or other. "Nancy tells me little Ned was the one who caught you and spilled the beans about you and Billy boy getting it on."

"First off, Ned did not catch us getting it on." She raises her eyebrows at her sister. "We do have some sense of what's appropriate behaviour in someone else's kitchen-"

"Saving it for your own kitchen," Harriet says with a grin. "Oh yeah, definitely more appropriate."

"Also not what I meant..." She starts to protest but stops almost immediately as the memory of Will bending her over the kitchen counter not so long ago hits her, sending a warm flush into her cheeks. "Anyway, yes, Ned broke the news to Nancy in no uncertain terms and saved us the trouble."

"He does have a certain direct style," Nancy says with a smile. "Straight to the point, saying exactly what he sees, as only kids of his age can."

"It helps that he's so damn cute," she says, smiling as she thinks about his questions about the wedding, and how proud he was of having rehearsed his walk with the ring.

"Sure doesn't hurt." Nancy pats her hand before standing up. "Now, if you two will excuse me, I'm going to take a quick shower because once he wakes up I won't get another minute of peace. Help yourselves to whatever you'd like...you should eat something, Mac, it's going to be a busy few days."

"I know, I will." She nods at her, smiling as she turns to head out of the kitchen and back upstairs.

"I'm going in for another bagel," Harriet says, picking up her plate and heading back to the counter. "Actually, I'm going to have half a bagel and you're going to have the other half. Cream cheese?"

"Yeah, thanks," she says, sensing that her sister has something she wants to say but knowing she'll say it when she's ready and not a moment before. "How's the hotel?"

"Oh my God, Trip, it's fucking gorgeous!" Harriet pops the bagel into the toaster and turns back to face her. "Seriously, if the regular rooms are that good, your cottage is going to be the shit. Leona really doesn't fuck around, does she? Why book out a Best Western when you can take over an entire resort hotel, right?"

"I doubt Leona even knows what a Best Western is," she says with a grin. "But I'm glad it's nice over there. Mum and Dad happy with their room too?"

"If 'bloody hell, Robert, why haven't we just retired here?' is anything to go on, then yeah, I think they're totally cool with their room." Turning back to the toaster, Harriet pops the bagel out and covers both halves in cream cheese before bringing it over to the table and sitting down. "Here, go for it. Don't want the bride fucking keeling over because she hasn't eaten in two damn days."

"Thanks," she says, picking up the bagel and taking a bite, her stomach letting out a loud growl in anticipation.

"I want to ask you something." Harriet scrapes some of the cream cheese from her bagel and licks it from her finger.

"I had a feeling you were itching to say something." She finishes chewing on her piece of bagel and looks across at her sister. "Go on then, out with it."

"Alright," Harriet says, nodding as she peers into her mug and drains the last of her coffee. "I want you to promise to be honest with me though, okay?"

"I almost always am," she says, rolling her eyes. "You don't usually give me a whole lot of choice."

"I want to know if everything's okay." Harriet stands up to refill her mug, holding it out to her and sitting back down when she shakes her head. "And none of your fucking 'I'm fine' bullshit, if you're not."

"So if I say I'm completely fine now, are you going to assume I'm lying anyway?" she asks, wondering if there's something in particular her sister is getting at, and if so, wishing she'd just say it.

"Not if you say it's true, I guess." Harriet shrugs, her eyes fixed firmly on hers.

"Well, it is true, I am fine. More than fine, I'm getting married tomorrow, I have everyone here..." She pauses as Harriet narrows her eyes, not looking entirely convinced by her answer. "Why don't you just get to the point, Harry? It's not like you to take the scenic route."

"Fine," Harriet says with a sigh. "I know you, Trip, and there's nothing you love more than having shit to organise so I totally expected to get here and find you in dictator mode, running around like a headless chicken, issuing orders like you're at work. Instead I get here and you're...well, you're not. You're kind of quiet, and, I don't know, napping in the day like a fucking toddler, and I'm just...you don't seem yourself, and it's...weird, I guess."

"You have nothing to worry about, I promise." She reaches for her sister's hand, squeezing it as she smiles at her. "It's been a whirlwind few months, there's been a lot to take in, and I think this last week or so it's finally started to catch up with me. I've already warned Will that he might have to keep prodding me if it looks like I'm about to sleep my way through our honeymoon."

"Pretty sure he can figure out how to prod you awake!" Harriet snorts but then her expression turns sober again. "Seriously though, I mean, fuck, I know you love him and all, but if this has happened too crazy fast then you need to speak the hell up, and not, like, when you're asked the important question tomorrow."

"Wait..." She frowns as she realises what Harriet's getting at. "Are you seriously asking me if I've changed my mind about marrying Will?"

"No...well, yeah, oh I don't fucking know." Sighing, Harriet picks up her mug and takes a loud gulp. "I know you want to marry him, I guess I just wanted to make sure this hasn't all been so rushed that you're not suddenly in a position where you're not getting the wedding you want but it's too late to say, and-"

"Jesus, Harry, take a breath," she says, smiling at her. "I do want to marry him, it hasn't been too rushed and I'm absolutely getting the wedding I want. I've wanted to marry Will for years, and you know me, do you really think I'd let myself be steamrolled into a wedding I don't want?"

"No, I guess not...actually no, I know you wouldn't." Harriet pushes her plate towards her. "Alright, question time is done. You should just shut up now and eat your damn bagel."

"I should shut up?" She raises her eyebrows but picks up the bagel anyway. "Pretty sure I wasn't the one making all the noise here-"

"I'm your sister," Harriet says, reaching for her own half of the bagel. "I'm allowed to make sure you're okay the day before your wedding, right?"

"Right," she says with a nod. "But I am okay, so you can follow your own advice now and shut up and eat your bagel."

*

Showered, dressed, and two mugs of coffee later she feels calm and ready for the day as she walks into the dining room in search of Nancy, smiling as she sees her sitting at the table, a stack of papers spread out in front of her and a pen in her hand.

"Something tells me those are lists," she says, nodding at the table. "And I can't tell you how happy that makes me."

"You're sure you're ready for this?" Nancy grins as she sits down at the table, pushing one of the sheets of paper towards her.

"Absolutely." She picks up the sheet and starts to scan it before looking up at Nancy and smiling. "Lists are my crack. I mean, not that I've ever been on crack, but you know...lists, I love them. I'm actually slightly distrustful of people who manage without them, frankly."

"Then this is all going to go very smoothly." Nancy laughs and picks up her pen. "Alright, feel free to shout if there's something on there you think won't work, or someone I'm sending somewhere who really shouldn't be allowed out."

"I think as long as nothing involves my mother behind the wheel of a car, we'll be fine," she says with a smirk.

"Nope, we're safe, I have your mom with me, running around to do some last minute things and Ned's with us. Rufus, Sheila and your sisters are to do nothing other than relax by the pool for the afternoon," Nancy says, circling each name on the list as she mentions them. "Beau has asked if Will can go over his music with him for tomorrow, and I have you down to go with Charlie to collect the cake, if that sounds okay?"

"Nancy, this is all so amazing, thank you so much." She can't quite believe how easy Nancy has made everything, and she can't imagine how stressful things would have been without her.

"Oh, Leona!" Nancy smiles at her. "How could I have forgotten Leona? She's arranged cars to collect everyone else from the station this afternoon, and then she's looking after dinner."

"Leona's making dinner?!" She can't hide her surprise as she sees that's exactly what the list says.

"God no," Nancy says. "She's having it catered!"

"Ah, of course she is," she says, smiling. "I really can't keep letting her do these things though. The plane, the hotel, and now this...and you and Charlie too, everything you're doing, it's really too much, I mean-"

"Stop right there." Nancy stops her, a smile on her face but her tone firm. "Charlie and I are loving that you're having the wedding here, that we're so involved, and I'm very sure Leona feels exactly the same way."

"Well, nonetheless." She pauses, her eyes filling as she's overwhelmed again by everyone's kindness, reminded again of how lucky she and Will are to have them all in their lives. "I hope you know how grateful we are."

"Oh, honey, we do," Nancy says, squeezing her hand before putting down her pen and standing up. "Now, let's get moving on this list, should we?"

*

In the car she realises it's the first time in a while she's spent any time alone with Charlie, especially in the last few days when everything has been such a whirlwind of activity. She knows how much it means to Will for him to be his best man, and it means the same to her to have him stand up there beside them, because she's almost certain that the wedding wouldn't be happening at all if it hadn't been for Charlie taking a chance on her. Not for the first time, she wonders if this feeling of being constantly on the edge of tears is the same for every bride, or if it's particularly so for her because she genuinely thought her chances of marrying Will were long gone. Either way, she wishes she could just slap some sense into herself every time she feels herself getting sentimental, although she's also aware that she would be slapping herself silly about ninety percent of the time right now.

"Penny for them?" Charlie's voice breaks into her thoughts and she turns to him.

"I think the asking price has gone a little beyond a penny," she says with a wry smile.

"A lot going on in that brain of yours right now?" he asks, glancing at her and then back at the road ahead. "Can't say I'm surprised."

"I know, it's just..." She sighs and tries to order her thoughts just enough to explain to him what she's feeling. "I'm really not a big crier, you know that, but everything is making me so emotional, Charlie, I don't know what the fuck is happening to me! I'm so ready for this wedding, I can't wait to be married to Will at last, and just as I think 'nope, I'm good, I've got this', someone says or does something lovely and I just fall apart again. Holding it all in is exhausting but if I let it out, I have a feeling I'll just end up sobbing my way right through the wedding, into the honeymoon, right through to our first anniversary."

"If it helps any, I'm pretty sure the over-emotional bride is an actual thing, a documented phenomenon," he says, smiling at her before turning into a parking spot. "Like, a normal thing, I mean. And hell, you and Will have walked a pretty rough road to reach this point, I think you can cut yourself a break, Mac, I really do."

"I did wonder if that was part of it, you know, that on top of all the excitement is such relief too that it all feels a bit unreal to me." She pauses, unclips her seat belt and turns to face him. "Oh, I know it's real, I'm not worried about that. I've always known it was real with Will, I just mean...God, I don't know what I mean, really."

"You loved him, he loved you, you were honest with him because you thought it was the right thing to do and it backfired, on a fucking epic scale. You then spent two years in a war zone, in constant danger. I mean, shit, you were stabbed, Mac, for God's sake! Your motherfucker of an employer tells you they no longer have a job for you and then I show up to tell you I want you to take over at News Night, with Will as your anchor, the same Will you had thought you were going to spend your life with. For a year he makes your life as difficult as he can, because he's a stubborn idiot who won't admit he still loves you, so instead he'd rather make you think he doesn't want you around." He pauses, possibly purely to take a breath, and reaches for her hand, covering it with his as he smiles kindly at her. "Then you spend Fourth of July weekend here and pretty much everything is turned on its head, and two months later you're about to get married. Jesus, Mac, if you weren't finding the whole thing just a tad mind-blowing there'd be something seriously fucking wrong with you."

"Well..." She grins at him, as ever having hit the nail completely on the head with everything he just said. He's right, everything has been strange, a little surreal almost, and although she's wanted to marry Will for years, when it finally did happen it really was quite literally overnight. "When you put it that way..."

"Exactly." He grins at her and opens the car door. "Alright, are you ready to see this cake, or is that going to send you into a meltdown too?"

"I really have no idea, but you should probably prepare for it just in case." She turns her hand to squeeze his and then opens her door, taking a deep breath and stepping out into the warm sunshine.

She knows what the cake tastes like, she and Will spent a memorable couple of hours tasting one sample after another. White cake, yellow cake, red velvet, vanilla, chocolate, coconut, lemon...all like tiny slices of heaven. Will had finally announced that they were all starting to taste the same and she started to panic she would never fit into her dress, so they had agreed on a count of three to point at their favourite, both sighing in relief when they chose the same one. Other than the actual cake, vanilla, and the choice of a very pale yellow fondant, she had happily left the remaining details in Nancy's hands, fully confident that whatever she settled on would be perfect.

"Charlie, it's good to see you!" The baker gives him a hug and then steps back to look at her, smiling broadly at her. "And this is the bride, isn't it? Mackenzie? I'm Alison."

"Yes, hi, it's really good to meet you at last," she says, smiling back at her. "Thank you so much for the samples, they were all so delicious. I was worried for a while I might need to buy a bigger wedding dress."

"As much of a compliment as that is, I'm real glad it didn't come to that," Alison says and points to a door in the corner of the room. "Well, it's all ready and just through there."

The first thing she notices is the colour, it's the exact shade she was hoping for. It's yellow enough not to be confused with cream, but not so yellow it looks egg like, and around the outside of both tiers are tiny white flowers, perfectly piped with delicate little petals. She's so completely lost in how beautiful a job Alison has done that it takes a while before her eyes make it to the top of the cake, but when she does she lets out a gasp and turns to Charlie.

"Was this...this was your idea?" Yet again, her eyes fill with tears and she swipes at them, gratefully taking the tissue he holds out to her.

"Nope, your mom gets the credit for this one," Charlie says, shaking his head. "She said she thought it would be cute, and I guess she was right?"

"Oh God, I love it," she says, turning back again to look at the cake.

On top is a tiny anchor desk with the ACN logo perfectly replicated on the front, and a camera facing it. Behind the desk sit two figures; Will in a grey suit, his eyes soft and blue even in miniature fondant form, and she's sitting beside him, dressed in white, her hair piled on top of her head. When she notices the little figures holding hands as they look at the camera, she almost loses it again but somehow holds herself together, instead taking another deep breath and turning to where Alison stands next to her.

"You like it?" Alison asks, with a faint smile on her face. "Your mom was very detailed in her descriptions."

"I bet she was." She laughs and wipes her eyes one final time. "I love it, it's wonderful, and Will's going to love it too. Thank you so much, it's just...perfect."

Alison's two assistants load the cake into the car, assuring a concerned Charlie that they've done this hundreds of times, the boxes are wonderfully secure, they've wedged it very securely into the trunk, and that as long as he doesn't plan to drive home at NASCAR speeds, it will be fine.

"You okay?" He turns to her before they both make their way back into the car, resting his hands on her shoulders.

"Completely okay, no more crying, I promise," she says, smiling at him. "At least not until we get home."

"So...twenty minutes." He grins and squeezes her shoulders before heading around to the driver's door. "You promise no more crying, for twenty minutes?"

"It's really the best I can do, right now." She shrugs and gets into the car. "I'll take it." He smirks at her and starts the car.

*

She watches as Rufus helps Charlie lift the cake from the car and carefully into the house, and her mother's voice issuing orders to them rings out from the hallway, making her smile. Locking the car, she follows them inside, catching Penny off guard when she locks her into a tight hug and holds on for longer than she usually would before pulling back and smiling at her.

"You like it then?" Penny returns her smile as she asks the question.

"I love it, Mum, so much. I love the colour and the tiny flowers," she says, her smile growing even wider as she thinks about the top of the cake. "And the little anchor desk and camera? So, so perfect, thank you."

"You're very welcome, darling," her mother says, gesturing towards the living room. "I think Will's around if you want to show him before everyone else arrives. The cars have just headed down to meet them from the train."

"Great, thanks." Smiling again, she heads into the living room just as Beau is heading out. "Hey Beau. All set?"

"I think so," he says with a shy nod. "As long as we can put a bum note or two down to nerves tomorrow, I think everything will be fine."

"I'm sure you're going to do great, and I'm certain nobody is going to notice a bum note," she says, giving his arm an encouraging squeeze. "Is Will in there?"

"Yeah." He nods and smiles, heading down the hallway as she steps into the room.

"Billy, you have to come and see the cake!" He's packing away Beau's sheet music and he looks up and smiles at her. "Seriously, it's so beautiful, you have to see it, and quickly, so we can make sure it's out of the way before everyone gets here."

"Honey, I don't think I've ever seen you so excited about cake," he says, eyebrow raised slightly in amusement. "Not even when the power went out and you really wanted a donut."

"I know, and for the record, I'm going to need all the donuts in the world on Sunday," she says, sighing as she thinks about a Boston Creme, or maybe a strawberry frosted...

"All the donuts?" He smirks at her and she nods.

"I won't have a wedding dress to worry about fitting into any more." She grins at him. "So yeah, all the donuts."

"Noted," he says as he grins back. "Now, this cake..."

"You're going to love it, I promise. It's our wedding cake, and it's just..." She stops and walks over to him, taking his hand and towing him out of the door and back into the kitchen where the huge box sits on the table.

"It's that whole box?" he asks, sizing up the box and looking back at her. "God, it's huge."

"It's really not." She shakes her head and starts to carefully remove the lid. "It's two tiers, people have way more than that, but look at it, look how pretty it is. It's amazing, right?"

"Yeah, it's nice." He nods, peering at the tiny flowers just like she did at first. "Looks really great, honey, she did a good job."

"Look at the top," she says, pointing to the top of the cake but not taking her eyes from his, grinning when she sees the reaction on his face. "It's us! You and me at the anchor desk."

"Alright, that's pretty amazing." He turns to her and grins, glancing back at the cake again. "For two tiny people made of...cake stuff-"

"Fondant," she says, grinning. "They're made of fondant."

"Whatever." He peers at the top of the cake again. "For two tiny people made of fondant they look a lot like us."

"I know, right?" She can't stop the huge grin taking over her face because she somehow loves the cake now even more than she did earlier.

"You really love it, don't you?" He laughs and squeezes her hand, and she feels him watching her as she gazes at the cake.

"Yeah, I do," she says, unable to tear her eyes from it, from the miniature versions of them perched happily on top. "I want to keep the little figures, desk and all, and I want to put them in a glass case so we can always look at them."

"Sure, we can do that," he says, tugging on her hand and pulling her against his chest. "If it's what you want, we can build them a display cabinet, a shelving unit all of their own, whatever you like."

"I know you're messing with me, but that's fine, I really do love this cake, so I can run with that." She grins up at him and slides her arms around his waist.

"I just don't feel equipped to handle such an extreme reaction to a cake, is all." He leans down and kisses her, his lips soft against hers as she feels his hands settle on her waist. "I'm glad you love it."

*

The noise of the newsroom appears to have been transported into Charlie and Nancy's house. Sloan and Maggie are giggling with her sisters, and she suspects some conspiracy over what they have decided to wear following her "it's a beach house wedding, I don't expect my bridesmaids in formal gowns...however, I will draw the line at bikinis" instruction. Jim, Will, and her father are at the table playing a board game with Ned, whose expression suggests he's beating them all quite comfortably. She sees Rufus talking to Beau, more than likely confirming to the teenager that Cambridge would be a wonderful experience for him in a few years, and she has no real idea where her mother is, a curiosity that's satisfied when she heads out towards the bathroom and spots her chatting to Leona in the hallway.

"I was just wondering where you were," she says, smiling at Penny.

"Oh? Did you need me for something?" Her mother asks, smiling back at her. "Everything's alright, sweetheart?"

"Everything's fine, it's just not like you to be away from the centre of the chaos, that's all," she says, grinning at her mother's raised eyebrows. "Actually, there was something I was going to ask you...I don't suppose you've had any insight into what my lovely bridesmaids are wearing tomorrow?"

"I most certainly have." Penny nods and turns to smirk at Leona. "And before you ask, no, I shan't be providing any more than that. Let me just say that you don't need to worry, they're all going to look beautiful, Mackie."

"I don't doubt that." She smiles sweetly at her mother, taking a step closer. "Not even a tiny hint?"

"You can flutter your lashes and give me your sweetest smile until the cows come home, but you won't get a thing from me," her mother says, shaking her head slightly. "That might work with Will, but I'm your mother, and if I can handle five-year-old Mackenzie using all of her charms in the pursuit of ice cream, I can most definitely handle your grown up wiles, young lady."

"Worth a try," she says with a shrug, turning to Leona. "Nancy says you have dinner all planned?"

"I sure do," Leona says, nodding at her. "There's so much food coming in a half hour that even when your impossibly slim sisters have decimated it there'll still be enough to feed the five thousand."

"Well, thank you, Leona, it really is so, so good of you." She smiles at her, hoping she recognises now grateful she and Will are.

"You're welcome," Leona says, grinning at her before he gaze shifts over her shoulder. "Both of you."

"If you ladies don't mind, I need to steal my fiancée for a few minutes," Will steps up next to her and takes her hand, smiling at her.

"You only have a half hour before dinner, McAvoy," Leona says, smirking at him. "So whatever you have planned for her, you should make it quick."

She lets him lead her out onto the deck, ignoring the snort her mother lets out at Leona's words, closing the door behind them. He doesn't stop, instead squeezing her hand a little tighter and leading her down the steps onto the beach.

"Where are we going?" she asks, following as he walks a little way along the sand and then stops to turn to her.

"Can we sit for a few minutes?" He waits for her to nod before sitting down and smiling as she settles beside him.

"What's wrong?" she asks, feeling herself frowning as she wonders what's on his mind.

"Nothing's wrong, I just thought..." He pauses and runs his thumb across the back of her hand before he continues. "I'm headed to the hotel right after dinner with the rest of the guys so I thought we could grab five minutes, just to, I don't know, have some quiet, I guess."

She understands completely what he's trying to say, that he just wants them to step away from everyone else for a few minutes and give themselves some room, some breathing space. She adores her family, and she adores their friends, but there really are a lot of them, and a few moments of peace feel like a welcome respite. Her hand squeezes his knee and she leans against his shoulder, sighing as she thinks about how nice it is to be out here, just the two of them, and how she still can't quite believe they'll be married in a few hours.

"You won't let my dad try to get you drunk tonight, will you?" she asks, biting her lip as she thinks about her father and his almost superhuman alcohol tolerance. "I really don't want you feeling rough tomorrow."

"Your mom's already given your dad pretty strict orders on that one," he says as he slides his hand over hers.

"I'm not surprised." She smiles as she pictures her mother issuing her father with his orders for the evening. She briefly considers what she's about to say because she doesn't want to dampen his mood, but she decides to press ahead. "I'm sorry your family won't be here. Are you okay with it?"

"Yeah, I'm okay." He shrugs and she feels him tense up slightly next to her as his hand tightens its hold on hers. "I guess I'm disappointed that after everything they still feel enough loyalty to our dad that it wins out over coming to our wedding. There was no way I was having him here though, not a fucking chance."

“Well, for what it’s worth, I think you made the right decision," she says quietly, wishing not for the first time that his childhood had been different, easier, that he hadn't been forced to grow up so much sooner than he should have. "I'm just sorry it means the people you would have liked to be here won’t come either."

"I know, but they made their choices." He falls silent and his grip on her hand relaxes slightly before pulling away entirely so he can reach into his pocket. "I have something for you."

"You do?" Raising her head from his shoulder, she looks up at him and smiles.

"Yeah, and if you don't want to wear it, it’s fine, I just...it's something I really wanted you to have," he says, pulling out a blue velvet box and opening the lid. "I know my parents had the fucking worst marriage, but this belonged to my grandma and she gave it to my mom before she married my dad. She was young and hopeful, you know, and she obviously had no idea my dad wasn't the man she hoped he'd be...and, I don't know, I just thought...well, like I said, you don't have to wear it."

"Oh Will, it's beautiful." She runs a finger over the bracelet in the box, looking at the delicate stones running through the gold. "It's really beautiful."

"I remember when I left for college I told my mom I was never getting married because I didn't want to risk turning into my father." He pauses when she lifts the bracelet carefully from the box, looking at it more closely, and when she imagines the young Will heading to college, leaving his family behind, her heart breaks a little bit. "My mom told me that was never going to happen, that I'd find the woman I wanted to marry, someone really special, and she wanted me to give this to her when I did."

"She was right." She watches as he takes the bracelet out of her hand and opens the clasp, putting it on as she holds out her wrist for him. "You're not your father, you never could be...and God, I'm glad you changed your mind about never getting married."

"Well, that's all down to you. For years I was committed to never getting married, and then you marched in with your legs, and your voice, and your blinding talent...I mean, shit, I was powerless." He runs his thumb slowly around the bracelet, softly stroking the skin on the inside of her wrist. "Seriously, honey, you rocked up into town and I wanted to marry you by the end of the damn day."

"You know, I told Sloan once that you had a heart the size of a Range Rover, but I was wrong, Billy." She leans up and kisses him, her hand resting lightly on his cheek, and the blue in his eyes when he opens them is almost dazzling. "It's way bigger than that."

*

Leona somehow manages to outdo herself yet again, and dinner is amazing. A spread of gargantuan proportions that suggests she wasn't entirely joking about feeding the five thousand, and one that makes it easy for everyone to load up their plates and wander out onto the deck, making the most of the warm evening. She deliberately eats nothing heavy, instead piling her plate with salad, trying not to drool over the other options as she reminds herself she can indulge on honeymoon when there isn't a beautiful wedding dress in her future.

There's dessert and champagne, and Leona insists on her eating a small slice of cheesecake as Charlie leads a toast, smiling at her as he reflects on how things have changed since the first time they met, and how happy he is for that to be the case. She has a huge lump in her throat so she's incredibly proud of herself for holding it together as everyone raises their glasses and Will squeezes her hand. Everybody decides to settle back down outside and she stands in the doorway and watches as her mother pulls out a list to give to her father, making a point of showing him what's on it before he sensibly just nods and takes it from her with a smile.

"I think we're heading out of here to the hotel pretty soon." Will tugs gently on her hand and leads her through the kitchen and into the hallway, stopping and turning to her.

"You have everything, right?" she asks, smiling as he guides her gently against the wall, away from the door and where they're no longer in view of the deck. "Do you need me to check?"

"Nope," he says as moves his hands to her shoulders and smiles back at her. "You can check if it'll make you feel better, but your mom and Nancy went through the list with military precision so I'm pretty sure we have everything."

"Between that and the list I just saw my mum give to my dad...yeah, you're covered," she says, nodding as she pictures her mother and Nancy going through Will's things like two officers on a morning inspection. "Will you miss me in the morning?"

"Yeah." He steps closer and moved his hands to her face, cupping her cheekbones, his thumbs softly stroking across her skin. "But I have plans for the morning after that'll more than make up for my absence."

"I like the sound of that." She sighs as he leans in to kiss her, his fingers sliding into her hair as she winds her arms around his waist, her hands clutching at his t-shirt to pull him closer.

Pushing her flat against the wall, he deepens the kiss, his tongue moving against hers, his fingers roaming across her scalp as she moans faintly. She realises that the next time she kisses him they'll be married, they will have stood up in front of their friends and family and promised to spend the rest of their lives together. The thought makes her stomach flip with excitement and she slides her hands under the back of his t-shirt, needing suddenly to feel his skin under her touch. He pulls a hand from her hair and moves it to her waist, his thumb dipping under the waistband of her jeans tickling and making her giggle against his mouth as she wonders if anyone would notice if they were to disappear just for a little while...

"I found them, Harry!" Ned's voice answers her question and the mention of her sister's name suggests this is a two person search team. "They're here, doing kisses!"

"Every single time, I swear to God..." Will pulls his lips reluctantly from hers and grins at her, stepping back slightly just as Harriet appears behind Ned.

"Should've known this is what you'd be doing." Harriet's eyebrows are raised and she points at Ned. "The things this poor child has seen."

"I was just saying goodnight to my fiancé," she says, smirking at her sister. "We chose a quiet corner, what more do you want?"

"In a house absolutely full of people, a quiet corner? Yeah, whatever," Harriet says, clearly delighted to be the one to have discovered them. "Leona just wanted me to tell you there's a car coming for the guys in fifteen minutes. So, if you could, like, prise yourselves apart by then, that might be good."

"Tell Leona we'll be right there." She grins at Harriet, thinking that this really is it. Will's about to leave, along with her father and brother, Charlie too, and the rest of the newsroom, and the next time she sees him will be when she walks towards him at their wedding.

"I'm going to tell her we found them," Ned says, beaming at Harriet. "And they were doing kisses, like they're always doing kisses."

"I know, right?" Harriet takes his hand as she gives them one final smirk. "Come on, little buddy, let's see if there's more ice cream for you and more cheesecake for me, yeah?"

They walk away and she leans forward and slips her arms tightly around him, smiling as she rests her cheek against his chest and his hands move to her shoulder blades.

"We should move, right?" he murmurs as his fingers roam slowly across her back.

"We really should..." Her reply is muffled against his chest as she nods. "Two more minutes?"

"Yeah." He leans down and kisses the top of her head. "Two more minutes."


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _He's so endearingly superstitious that she can picture him frantically typing to send her the message before midnight to avoid the implosion of the earth that would surely follow him daring to contact her on their wedding day._

The first thing she becomes aware of when she opens her eyes is the sound of her alarm, probably what woke her to begin with, as it's supposed to do. The second is that her stomach feels like it did on Leona's plane, like it's trying to escape from her body, or at least expel its contents. She closes her eyes again and takes a few deep, calming breaths, desperately fighting against bolting from the bed and running for the bathroom, silently reminding herself that she's excited for today, not nervous, hoping her stomach takes note and adjusts accordingly. Pulling the sheet back, she sits up tentatively, relaxing slightly as the stampeding herd of wildebeest in her stomach seems to yield to a mere kaleidoscope of butterflies, and she can deal with that.

Reaching for her phone on the nightstand, she silences the alarm and smiles when she sees a message from Will, sent at two minutes to midnight, long after she had fallen into an exhausted sleep, 'Not Saturday yet, in under the wire...sleep well, honey. I love you, xx'. He's so endearingly superstitious that she can picture him frantically typing to send her the message before midnight to avoid the implosion of the earth that would surely follow him daring to contact her on their wedding day. She grins and stands up to head to the bathroom, regretting standing up more quickly than she thought she had when she has to sit back down again and wait for the spots in front of her eyes to clear. Her second attempt is more successful and she's pleased when her stomach starts to growl, knowing she's going to get downstairs and be completely unable to refuse breakfast without it causing quite the outcry.

She is proved right almost as soon as she walks into the kitchen to find her mother and Nancy, plus her sisters and Sheila, all having arrived from the hotel, apparently wide awake and obscenely cheerful given the early hour, even Harriet, who is not a morning person.

"Good morning, sweetheart," Penny says as she crosses the room and kisses her cheek, frowning as she looks more closely at her. "You look a little pale, did you sleep?"

"I did." She nods and smiles at her mother. "Surprisingly well, actually."

"Wedding morning nerves then, I shouldn't doubt. Completely normal, even when it's a match made in heaven." Putting a gentle arm around her shoulders, her mother steers her towards the table and into the seat beside Frankie. "We'll get some coffee and breakfast into you and you'll perk right up. Now, what would you like?"

"I don't know..." She can't quite think, and she can't decide if the smell of coffee and bacon wafting under her nose is tempting her or making her feel queasy. "I think maybe just a piece of toast?"

"Heh, nice try, Trip," Harriet says from across the table, grinning at her. "You know Mom won't be happy until you've eaten six eggs and half a pig, washed down with a gallon of coffee."

"I really don't want eggs," she says quickly, not entirely sure what she does want but very sure of what she doesn't.

"Would pancakes tempt you at all?" Nancy turns from where she's heating up a pan, smiling at her.

"Pancakes might be good, I think," she says with a nod, returning Nancy's smile. "Thanks."

"I'm glad you're awake nice and early though, darling," Penny says, handing her a mug of coffee and sitting back down opposite her. "We have plenty of time before we have our hair and make- up done, we can relax a little."

"Everyone okay over at the hotel this morning?" She bites her lip slightly, thinking about Will, hoping he slept, knowing from his own admission that he doesn't sleep well without her next to him.

"By everyone, I assume you mean Will, and yes, perfectly fine." Her mother takes a sip from her own coffee mug and gently pats the back of her hand. "I made quite certain they were all in bed at a civilised hour last night, and when we left this morning they were heading for breakfast."

"Good," she says, wondering suddenly about everyone else. "What about Leona? And Sloan?"

"The last I saw of Sloan she was working her way through a rather impressive stack of waffles, with Leona telling her she had half an hour and if she wasn't ready then she would find herself walking over here." As Penny grins, she can picture Sloan quite clearly, determined not to be rushed where breakfast is concerned. "They'll be here shortly, Maggie too."

"Everyone's here again!" Ned comes running into the kitchen, stopping as he reaches the table, grinning at them all before moving to where she's sitting. "It's today, right? Today is the wedding?"

"Yep." She smiles at him as he rests his hands on her knees and looks up at her. "You're right, it is today, and that means you get to wear your new suit and do your very important job."

"Yeah, I do!" He laughs as she runs her hand through his hair, but then a serious look crosses his face. "But wait, the wedding is today, where's Will?"

"He's at the hotel, sweetie, with your grandpa, and with my daddy and my brother too," she says, pushing her chair back slightly when it becomes clear he's about to climb up into her lap. "They're going to get ready over there while we all get ready here, until it's time for the wedding."

"Okay," he says with a shrug. "Does Will get to wear a new suit too, like mine?"

"He does. All the guys get to wear new suits, and all the girls get to wear new dresses." She pushes her coffee cup back slightly a safe distance from his hands.

"Wow." He looks up around the table at her sisters, at her mother, and at Sheila, before letting out a sigh. "That's a lot of dresses, Mac!"

"You're right, it is a lot of dresses," she says, letting out a laugh at the amazement in his voice. "Your grandma's making pancakes, Ned, and I know you love pancakes."

"I do love them, and syrup too, I really love syrup." He reaches for the juice Penny has just poured for him, picking up the cup with both hands and taking a mouthful before he goes on. "And you like them too, right?"

"I do." She nods and smiles over at Nancy. "I'm pretty sure your grandma is making enough for both of us."

"Yep, because grandma says it's going to be a real busy day," he says, pausing to take another drink of juice. "So we have to have a good breakfast."

"Your grandma is quite right, Ned," Penny says, smiling at him, the look on her face making it clear how adorable she thinks he is. "We need lots of energy for busy days, and you have an important walk to do, and so does Mackenzie, so can you make sure you both eat lots of pancakes."

"I can eat five and Mac can eat five." He holds up both hands, grinning at Penny. "Ten!"

"Gosh, ten pancakes? That would be a very good breakfast, wouldn't it?" Penny glances over at her and smiles. "I think five each is a jolly good number but I think I'd even be happy if you ate two and Mackenzie ate two. What do you think, can you manage two?"

"Oh yeah, I can eat two," he says, turning slightly to look up at her. "Can you eat two, Mac?"

"I'm sure I can," she says, smiling at him and then shaking her head at her mother and her tactics. "I can definitely try."

*

Hair and make-up all done, they head into Nancy's room, leaving her with Ned and Beau as they get changed, insisting that they want her to see their dresses all together. She smiles at Beau, looking handsome in his suit, and at Ned, sitting on her bed with a book, under strict orders from Nancy not to do anything that might see him end up creased or dirty.

"I think it's about time the bride got into her dress, don't you?" Penny walks in and grins, the wedding dress in her hand, still in its cover as she hangs it up on the back of the door before turning to Ned. "Your grandpa just got here, young man, I think he'd love to see you in your suit, don't you?"

"Come on, Ned." Beau reaches for his brother's hand and waits for him to climb down from the bed. "Let's go see Grandpa and Will while Mac gets dressed."

Penny closes the door behind them and turns back to her, smiling as she walks across the room and unzips the bag to reveal her dress. It's everything she remembers, so perfect it still takes her breath away as she removes her robe and drops it onto the bed.

"Will's here?" she asks, running her hand gently down the lace bodice of the dress and onto the satin skirt.

"He is indeed, sweetheart," Penny says, stepping in to help with the tiny buttons decorating the back of the dress. "And looking devilishly handsome, of course."

"Of course." She smiles as she turns back to face her mother. "Is he okay? Does he seem nervous?"

"I've never seen him look so happy, quite frankly, so if he is nervous it certainly isn't showing." Taking the dress carefully off the hanger, Penny smiles at her, glancing down at her bra, plunging at the front and low in the back to go under the delicate bodice of the dress. "And he's going to be more than okay when he sees you in that little ensemble later this evening."

"I swear they've grown since I bought this damn thing," she says, adjusting herself slightly before sighing and giving up. "Hell, as long as they stay put during the ceremony, that's all I ask."

Penny helps her into the dress and does up the small column of buttons at the bottom of the bodice, her hands smoothing slowly down the skirt before she turns her slowly around to face the mirror, smiling at her as she sees herself in the dress, hair and make-up done, ready to get married.

"Oh, darling..." Her mother shakes her head, she thinks to ward off another flood of emotion, and reaches for the shoes, taking hold of her arm to steady her as she steps into them. "Perfect, just...beautiful."

"God, Mum, this is it, this is actually it," she says, a faint giggle bubbling up out of her as the reality that she'll be married to Will in an hour hits her. "When I go downstairs, it's to marry Will."

"I know, and to do that, you're going to need your beautiful bridesmaids." Penny opens the door and steps out into the hallway. "Ladies, whenever you're ready!"

Led by Harriet, her bridesmaids make their way into the room, big smiles on each of their faces as they stand in a line in front of her. At first all she sees is how gorgeous they all look, and how happy, but then she notices the dresses, the six identical dresses, all in the palest yellow that's she's almost certain is the exact shade of her wedding cake.

"Well?" Sloan's impatience gets the better of her and she breaks into her stunned silence. "We know you said we didn't have to match and we could wear whatever we wanted but..."

"I was all for shorts and a tank, because it's a beach wedding, and all," Harriet says with a grin. "But I was overruled."

"And then Cat pointed out that you hadn't said you didn't want us to match," Sloan says, picking up where she left off. "So we figured hell, you're only getting married once, let's do this thing properly. What do you think?"

"The cake," she says, immediately aware that her reaction isn't quite the expected one when six pairs of eyes narrow in confusion, and she scrambles to elaborate. "I mean, the colour of the dresses, it's the same shade as the cake, and it's just the right yellow, and you all look so beautiful, and...oh God, the dresses, I love them."

"Thank God," Frankie says, letting out a sigh of relief, followed by a wide smile. "Mackie, you look...like a princess, or, like, oh, I don't know what, you just look so gloriously pretty."

"Are we decent in there?" There's a knock on the door and she smiles at her father's voice on the other side of it.

"We're fine, Robert, come on in," Penny answers and he pops his head into the room before stepping inside.

"Well, well, look at my beautiful girls." He looks around the room, smiling at Sheila, Sloan, and Maggie. "And my honorary ones too, of course."

"Don't they all look just wonderful?" Penny steps over to him and squeezes his arm.

"Absolutely bloody smashing, all of you." He steps over to where she's standing and when he smiles at her, she can see the emotion in his eyes, even without him saying a thing. "May I have two minutes with the daughter I'm about to hand off to someone else?"

"Of course you can, you soppy fool." Penny says, smiling at him and then kissing her on the cheek. "Come on girls, we'll go and take our places downstairs and wait for this one here to do his duty."

They all file out behind her, and again she's struck by the dresses, that they wanted to do it properly, that she's sure they spoke to Nancy about the colour to be certain it was right, and she feels her eyes start to fill with tears.

"No crying yet, little one." Her father steps up to stand in front of her, his soft smile not helping with her attempt to regain some control. "We haven't even got you downstairs."

"I know," she says, smiling as she shakes her head. "It's ridiculous, I know."

"I don't want to add to your tears, so I'm just going to say that I've always been proud of you, my little Mackie, and I'm proud of you again today, and that won't ever change." He reaches for her hand and squeezes it gently in his. "I also wanted to say that I've never seen two people so right for each other as you and Will, and I know you're going to be deliriously happy for an awfully long time, and that's all any father can ask, that his children grow up to be kind and decent people who find whatever, or whoever, makes them happy."

"If we're kind and decent then it's because of you and Mum." She blinks and she's thankful the tears that are brimming manage not to spill over as she smiles back at him. "I love you, Daddy."

"I love you too, sweetheart, and I shan't deny your mother and I did a rather fine job. It certainly can't be a coincidence that all five of you turned out so well," he says, his eyes twinkling as his smile grows wider. "Now, are we ready, do you think?"

"I've never been more ready for anything in my life," she says, sliding her arm through his and smiling as he leads her to the door.

*

The walk downstairs feels surreal, her father beside her, the knowledge that Will is waiting outside, along with the rest of her family and their friends. Stepping outside, she smiles as she sees the yellow flowers floating on the top of the pool and decorating the edges of the deck, and the pathway that has been set up to carefully avoid both the very edge of the pool and the grass. She sees Will up ahead, Charlie standing next to him, and she smiles again as she sees Beau, a look of quiet concentration on his face as his music accompanies her as she walks. She feels Sloan take her bouquet, smiling before she and the rest of her bridesmaids take their seats, and then her father kisses her cheek as he gives her hand a final squeeze before he lets go. Suddenly there she is, standing with Will at the end of the deck, with the beach and the ocean in front of them, and she knows it couldn't be more perfect.

"You look beautiful," he murmurs softly as he takes hold of her hand, his eyes bright as she smiles at him.

Ned's walk down the path with the rings is slow and steady, his tongue peeking out ever so slightly as he concentrates, his face only breaking into a smile when he finally reaches them. Their vows are traditional, simple, heartfelt, and her eyes fill with tears when he slides the wedding band gently onto her finger with a shaking hand but a firm "I do." She says her vows, her eyes fixed briefly on their joined hands, mesmerised by the matching bands, and when she hears "I now pronounce you husband and wife" she grins up at him as he leans in to kiss her. His hands move to her waist and she smiles against his mouth, overwhelmed by the happiness and calm that comes with the realisation that they're married, at last.

They take photos with her family, photos with the staff, photos with everyone, beside the pool, on the deck, and then everyone takes off their shoes and they head down the steps to the beach for another set. When they're done and the photographer is happy, she stands and watches as her bridesmaids make their way back to the house, followed by her parents, and almost everyone from the newsroom. Only Jim lingers back and walks over to them, shoes in hand, his usual lop-sided smile on his face.

"I just wanted to say congratulations," he says, his smile growing wider as he holds out his hand to Will and shakes it enthusiastically. "I know I was a bit of an ass when you first got engaged...but, yeah, I know Mac only ever wanted to marry you, and you make each other happy, and, well, you know, congratulations."

"Thanks, Jim," Will says, nodding at him. "I appreciate that."

She can't seem to manage words at all because the only thing she can see in front of her is the young trainee she spent two years embedded with, and how he's grown into the accomplished producer he is today. Letting go of Will's hand, she steps forward and hugs Jim, holding on tightly for a few seconds before she pulls back and kisses his cheek, grinning as he blushes.

"Right, I guess I should..." He shrugs and turns towards the steps before glancing back with a grin. "I mean, as nice as this is, I really only came for the food since I heard Leona was catering this shindig."

"You heard right, but you should probably get up there," she says, pointing up towards the deck. "Between my sisters and Sloan...well, you know."

He smiles and starts to head up the steps as she turns back to Will, sliding her arms around him and looking up, unable to keep the grin from her face as once again the realisation that they're finally married kicks in. She feels his fingers trailing slowly up her spine, appreciating the low dip of her dress as his touch moves higher before settling at the nape of her neck, his other hand warm against her lower back.

"We should get up there too, right?" His voice is low and she pushes herself closer to him in response, nodding as she looks into his eyes. "Before Leona comes down here shouting about me not being able to keep my hands off of you for a damn minute."

"Yeah," she says, pulling back reluctantly and sighing. "Or my mum, with words to the same effect."

"Come on then, wife of mine." He takes her hand and waits as she lifts her skirt slightly with her other hand before moving to the steps. "Let's go join the party."

It's clear very quickly that Leona knows how to cater a wedding, Nancy and Charlie know how to host one, and that her parents' years of ambassadorial duties have stood them in good stead to be the life and soul of any party. What she loves most is that it's the complete opposite of how she always thought she wanted her wedding to be, it's just the people close to them (although she feels a pang of sadness for the absence of Will's siblings), it's relatively informal, and it's outdoors. Some of the traditions are being observed, she knows her mother would never let any of her daughters get married without a speech from their father, a speech that succeeds in making her cry, not unexpectedly. Leona insists on the throwing of the bouquet ("throw the girls a rope, would you?"), caught by Sloan, the look in Don's eyes not missed by anyone.

Then there's the cake. The beautiful cake with the intricate flowers, the most wonderful shade of yellow, and the perfect little miniatures on top. When they cut into it, hands clasped together over the handle of the knife, she grins so widely that it turns into a giggle and Will shakes his head at her, still amused at how much she loves the cake. When she licks the last of her slice from Will's fingers, everyone cheers and she giggles again before leaning in to kiss him, the sweet vanilla sponge mingling with the lemon cream, and the taste of him even more delicious.

"This, Mrs McAvoy, is yours for tonight." She's refilling her drink, the champagne washing the cake down perfectly, when Leona appears beside her, smirking and holding up a key. "That dress, by the way? You look like a goddess, it's time to let that new husband of yours worship you like one."

"Oh, I'm definitely not going to stop him." She takes the key from Leona's hand and smiles at her. "Thank you again, Leona, for this. It really is the most amazing gesture."

"You're welcome, enjoy it," Leona says, squeezing her hand so briefly she's not sure if, with the help of the champagne, she imagined it. "Now, I'm getting a poker game vibe from Sloan, so unless you want in, I'd suggest you and Will make your excuses now and get to it."

*

Thanks to Nina Howard's snarky few paragraphs, their engagement was public almost immediately, along with the information that they were planning a wedding soon, even if Nina's hints about the reason were way off. Now that they're married, their small, quiet ceremony going unnoticed by the gossip media, she really doesn't care if anyone recognises Will as they walk through the lobby on the way to their cottage, but she finds herself holding his hand a little tighter anyway. She does notice smiles from the few people they pass but she has no idea if it's a smile of recognition or if it's a smile that any bride and groom would get.

They make it to the cottage and he insists on picking her up and carrying her inside, ignoring her token protests which have become giggles by the time he puts her down on the bed and grins at her.

"You're looking pretty happy with yourself there, Mr McAvoy..." She stands up and kisses him, taking his hand and threading her fingers through his.

"Managed that little manoeuvre without fucking up a single muscle, I should be happy with myself," he says, smiling.

"Nothing to do with having just bagged a seriously hot wife?" She smirks and pulls on his hand as she starts moving.

"That goes without saying." He follows her as she leads him through the bedroom and into the huge living room area, smiling as she stops and turns to him. "What?"

"This place, Billy, look at it, it's amazing." Her eyes are wide and she walks across to the glass doors, flicking a switch she assumes will illuminate the outside terrace, grinning at him when it does. "Holy shit, I think we might be close to paradise here."

"Is that my cue to promise something about taking you the rest of the way later?" He raises his eyebrows and she smirks as she squeezes his hand.

"Only if it's a promise you intend to keep," she says, feeling suddenly giddy, a combination of the champagne, the cottage, and the fact that they're married, they're actually married.

"Have I ever let you down in that department?" He drops his voice lower and she sighs as her stomach flutters in response.

"Never." She shakes her head and starts to tug him back towards the bedroom. "If someone took a Will McAvoy sex poll, I'd be giving you A plus on every question."

"A Will McAvoy sex poll..." He stops walking and frowns, watching her so closely, his gaze so intense, that she can't seem to think. "Never mind, I don't want to know."

"No, you probably don't," she says, giggling as she once again tries to steer him through the room in the direction of the bedroom.

"Wait," he says suddenly, letting go of her hand and pulling his phone out of his pocket.

"What's wrong?" She wonders why he's looking at his phone, who on earth he thinks he should call at this particular moment.

"Nothing, I just..." He pauses and looks up from his phone to smile at her, the sweet smile that she can never resist. "We forgot something."

"Whatever it is, it can't be anything important," she says, shrugging vaguely. "Our bags are here, we're both here, anything else can wait."

"No, I mean there's something we forgot to do. So...we cut the cake, your dad made a speech, you threw your bouquet," he says, looking down again and scrolling through the phone, glancing at her before he puts it down on the table. "But there's something we didn't do."

"What's that?" She frowns slightly, genuinely struggling to think of anything she wished they had done but didn't.

"Come here." He pushes a button on the phone and pulls her into his arms, his chin resting gently on top of her head as she hooks her arms under his and settles her hands against his shoulder blades.

"What are we..." She stops when the music starts to play, realising instantly what they didn't do back at the house. "Oh! Our first dance."

"Yeah, just because we didn't have a formal reception doesn't mean we shouldn't have a first dance," he says, starting to move, pulling her with him. "And I kind of figured it had to be this song, so..."

"You're a big sentimental fool, Will McAvoy." She leans up and kisses him, smiling as the familiar strains of Here Comes the Sun start to fill the room. "And I love you for it."

They've never really danced much, the two of them. When they were together the first time there were a few formal dinners, some with dancing, but they were mostly content to stay clear of the dance floor, watching as the other couples filled it quite happily. She wonders now why they avoided it when it feels so good to be in his arms, swaying gently to the music, feeling his fingers tickling the bare skin of her back. The song is almost at its end when he leans down to kiss her, swiping a thumb tenderly across her cheekbone as his tongue slides across her top lip, not stopping even when the music does, instead bringing his other hand to cup her face as he moves deeper into the kiss.

She's the one who pulls away, but only because she wants more and despite their practice run against the wall, she really doesn't want it in her dress and shoes, she wants him to take her dress off, slowly and with purpose, and she wants him in the huge bed she knows is waiting for them in the other room. Taking his hand, she pulls him with her, smiling at the look in his eyes, such a heady mix of hunger, love, and what looks like complete and total happiness, a look she's certain is reflected in her own eyes.

In the bedroom he takes off his jacket and she moves her hands to his tie to loosen it, in a reverse of her usual pre-show routine when she always tries to make it to his office in time to tie it for him. Sliding it from around his neck, she tosses it in the vague direction of the chair at the end of the bed, not really caring if it lands there or not, focusing instead on slowly opening the buttons of his shirt until he can shrug it off his shoulders and onto the floor.

Her hands move down his chest and she smiles up at him before turning her attention to unbuckling his belt, stepping back as he kicks off his shoes and slides his pants down. Before she has chance to really appreciate that her new husband is standing in front of her in only his shorts, his hands come to rest on her shoulders and he turns her gently around. She hears his intake of breath and she realises it’s because the day has been so full, speeding by so quickly, that he’s only now able to truly appreciate the back of her dress, the low dip of the bodice in its delicate lace, and the row of tiny buttons where it meets the satin skirt. She never expected to fall quite so hard for a dress as she did with this one, and now she feels like he’s seeing what she loves about it, admittedly helped by the fact that she’s the one wearing it. She’s not vain, but she knows she’s easy enough on the eye, Will’s especially, and she knows this dress is working in her favour. The low cut of the bodice showing off her obvious curves in the front, and the more subtle ones in the rear; the curve of her neck, the smooth skin of her back, and the smudge of a freckle he has always been somewhat inexplicably drawn to. She's far from surprised when she feels his thumb run over it now, followed by the soft touch of his lips sliding across her skin.

The next touch she feels comes from his fingers on the back of her neck, playing with the loose curls that have slipped from the collection of pins that somehow managed to hold her hair in its elaborate style all day. Again, his lips follow the path of his fingers and she senses a pattern, one she’s more than happy to indulge, and which she does by sighing his name and leaning back slightly into his touch. He strokes one hand down her arm, tangling their fingers together when his hand reaches hers, as his other hand slides under her dress, his thumb tracing small circles over her shoulder blade. She loves it when he's slow like this, like he's savouring every inch of her body, and she feels herself becoming more aroused by the second, goose bumps moving gradually across her skin.

She feels his mouth move across her skin, lingering where her shoulder meets her neck, a featherlight kiss becoming something more, a scraping of his teeth chased by his tongue, warm, soft, soothing. A moan escapes from her throat and only then does she remember there's nobody in earshot, if he wants to make her shriek tonight she doesn't have to bite back her cries. A rush of heat fills her cheeks at the thought and she reaches blindly behind her for his hand, settling instead for his arm, running her fingers through the blonde hairs, gripping his wrist to urge him on, sighing as it becomes clear he's still intent on taking his time. His lips leave her neck and she feels his fingers on her back, moving lower, his touch so light she feels a shiver run right through her body like a jolt of electricity.

For a big man he has nimble fingers, something that has served her well on so many occasions, and is doing so again as he deftly starts work on the buttons of her dress, the slight roughness of his knuckles causing the hairs on the back of her neck to stand to attention.

"I can see why you love this dress..." His voice drops to a level that makes her stomach flip over as her eyes slide shut. "But I think I need to see what's under it."

"Well, you seem to be heading in the right direction," she says, her voice barely more than a breath as he moves on from the final button to unzip her. "Even if you are taking your sweet time."

"You complaining?" he asks, and she can hear the grin running through his tone. "Because I could be persuaded to just rip this fucking thing right off you."

"Don't you even think about it." She can feel the heat of his breath on the back of her neck and there's nothing she wants more than for her dress to come off, and fast. "I love this dress almost as much as I love you. Rip it and this could be the shortest marriage in history."

"Gotcha." He slowly and tenderly peels the bodice down off her shoulders, slides the skirt over her hips and takes her hands to hold her steady as she steps out of it.

She takes the dress and moves to the chair, draping it carefully over the back of it, bending a little more than she really needs to, knowing he's behind her appreciating what the high cut panties and the shoes are doing for her legs. Straightening, she lifts her arms and starts to remove the pins from her hair, dropping them one by one into a small dish on the dresser beside the chair. She feels him move closer and knows he's resisted touching her for as long as he can, so she turns to face him, a coy smile moving onto her lips when his hand reaches out and he takes one of her loose curls between his thumb and forefinger, twirling it slowly before he lets go and runs his thumb across her cheekbone.

His eyes drift down her neck, lingering briefly at her collarbone, widening slightly when they reach the deep plunge of her bra, which she knows is showcasing her cleavage in an almost embarrassingly ostentatious way. His gaze grows more intense as it moves lower and she feels a heat move through her body in response, building into an ache when he glances at her panties and licks his lips. Deciding to play him at his own game, she drops her eyes to his chest, his hipbones, and down to where he's already hard, straining against his shorts. Taking a step forward, she shifts her hips against his, eliciting a groan from him that sends a pool of arousal straight into her abdomen.

Moving her hands to his shoulders, she leans in and kisses him, and her tongue pushes urgently against his almost instantly, her mouth desperately craving the taste of him. She feels his hand push into her hair, cupping the back of her head to kiss her with an equal fervour, as his other hand moves down and slides inside her panties. A rush of wetness greets him in response and she moans as his middle finger strokes slowly against her. Pushing herself harder against him, she abandons any pretence of patience and wraps her arms around his neck, trapping his hand tightly between them, urging him on as her moans increase in volume. The simultaneous feel of his erection pushing hard against her hip, and his fingers strumming through her wetness is almost too much, and she tucks her head into the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent, and running her tongue across his skin. His hand tugs on her hair and pulls her head from his neck so he can look at her. His eyes are dark and his gaze doesn't falter, his focus fixed firmly on her, and when his fingers pick up speed her eyes drift shut as a defence against the sensations threatening to overwhelm her. His lips cover hers and because she knows she's on the very edge of an orgasm, she can seem to manage nothing more than simply opening her mouth and letting his tongue explore. When she does come, it's with his fingers tangled tightly in her hair and his lips sucking gently on the side of her neck, her pulse pounding furiously against his mouth.

"God, Billy." She sighs as he pulls his hand from her panties, his damp fingertips grasping her waist as she tries to catch her breath.

"To your satisfaction, Mrs McAvoy?" He lifts his head and smiles at her, his eyes still dark and a flush of faint pink colouring his face.

"Always," she says quietly, stroking the backs of her fingers tenderly down his cheek, her other hand moving down to take his hand as she starts to step out of her shoes.

"Leave them on," he says quickly, and the firm tone of his voice sends a fresh surge of arousal through her.

"You like them?" She has her breath back, she feels energised, and she drops his hand so she can reach for his shorts as she grinds herself against him to make it clear exactly what she wants.

"You know I do..." He pushes her back against the dresser and helps with her attempt to pull his shorts down, making quick work of it and kicking them aside. "And hell, you did go to the trouble of having us test them out, right?"

"Right." She nods and her hands grip the edge of the dresser as he slides his fingers onto her hips and pulls her panties down. She lifts one leg at a time so he can remove them completely, moaning when he strokes his fingers down each of her calves before setting her feet gently back on the carpet. "Are you about to nail your new wife against this very fancy dresser?"

"I might've used a more poetic term than nail, but yeah, that's my plan," he says, running a finger down between her breasts as his other hand reaches around to the strap of her bra, his expression shifting from one of concentration to confusion when he can't seem to figure out the clasp.

"Magic wedding dress bra," she says, grinning at him and moving her hands around her back, undoing the bra instantly and throwing it over his shoulder with a giggle. "There's a knack to it."

She watches as his eyes flick down to her chest, and he runs a finger softly across her breast, glancing back up at her, his expression wary after her reaction two nights ago when her breasts were suddenly so sensitive she couldn't bear his touch. It makes her realise she seems to have made it to her wedding night without the arrival of the period she was so convinced would decide to show up and ruin it. When his thumb and forefinger move to her nipple, she bites her lip and softly moves his hand as a wave of discomfort hits her. Perhaps she hasn't escaped the threat quite yet, but at least her cycle seems to have spared her tonight.

"Still sore?" He looks worried, a frown starting to crease his forehead. 

"Yeah, it seems so," she says, biting her lip and shrugging.

She smiles at him and leans back to sit on the very edge of the dresser, opening her legs slightly and running her flat palms down his chest before moving to settle her hands on his hips. Glancing down, she sees how hard he is, and she wants him inside her, now and on this damn dresser, even though not so long ago she was convinced she wanted him nowhere but in the bed behind them. They can go for round two in the bed, she's totally okay with that.

Tilting her hips towards him, she rubs herself against him, moaning as she feels him so close but not yet where she wants him. When he rests one hand on her waist and pushes himself closer, his other hand starting to guide his hard length inside her, she moans again, louder, relaxed in the knowledge she's free to make as much noise as she needs. She's perfectly capable of keeping quiet when necessary, but silence isn't exactly something he inspires when he's making her feel the way he is right now. Raising her leg, she wraps it around his thigh, the heel scraping down his skin as he pushes all the way into her, slowly until she feels more full of him than she thought possible.  
She brings her other leg up, crossing her feet behind him as his hands take hold of her hips, his thumbs gripping hard, and it's almost painful, but it's the right kind of pain and she lets out his name on a long sigh. His hands trail down her thighs and he starts to move, deep inside her, kissing her when she reaches forward to grasp hold of his shoulder. Pulling back, then driving even harder into her, his groans grow louder with each stroke, his breathing heavier each time he slides into her. His eyes are so dark they no longer appear blue at all, and when he blinks slowly as she gazes into them, she knows he's close.

Tightening her feet around him and moving them higher, she takes her hand from his shoulder and leans back on her elbows, letting out another loud moan as she pushes her hips forward again for him to slide deep into her once again. His hands move from her thighs to her waist, his thumbs running across her rib cage before he again takes hold of her hips. He slows down and murmurs her name, chasing it with a long groan as thrusts into her with one final stroke, coming with a shudder so hard that she swears she feels his warmth flooding into her. His hand moves down between them and she gasps in surprise when his fingers start to move in a small, fast circle. Leaning down to where she's barely managing to hold herself up on shaky arms, he kisses her, his tongue in harmony with his fingers, and when she comes again, the moan that disappears into his mouth vibrates through them both.

He pulls his lips from hers and slides his arms around her, his hands on her back as he pulls her up into a sitting position and she uncrosses her legs from behind his. His fingers feel warm as they stroke across her shoulder blades, and the smile he gives her is sweet and gentle, giving rise to an unexpected lump in her throat which she manages to reverse with sheer force of will. She diverts it with a kiss to the side of his neck, moving to his shoulder, and looking back up at him when she manages to regain her composure.

"I have to say..." She starts to speak, pausing when she feels him soften and slip slowly out of her, a shiver running through her when he does. "Never did I think we'd consummate this marriage on a hotel dresser."

"No, I guess I didn't either," he says, rubbing his hands up and down her back to try and counteract the shiver. "It's a pretty fancy dresser though."

"Well, it's a pretty fancy hotel." She grins at him and shifts forward so she can stand up, her hands landing on his arms as her shaky legs take her by surprise. "This room does have a pretty nice looking bed too."

"I noticed that." He grins back as she squeezes his hand and starts to move towards the bathroom. "Do you have plans that involve the bed, Mackenzie?"

"I do...eight hours of unbroken sleep," she says, sighing happily at the thought. "But in the morning...we'll see."


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _The bartender turns away and Leona and Penny both turn to stare at the two of them, unnervingly similar curious smirks on their faces. She’s fairly sure they are both itching to ask inappropriate wedding night questions, and at this point it’s really just a question of who cracks first._

It's light when she wakes up, bright sunshine peeking in through the mostly drawn curtains, splashing a stripe of light across her arm. She realises how comfortable the bed is, doesn't recall waking up at all during the night, and she wonders if Will slept well too. Rolling over, she discovers two things; he's not in bed with her, and her stomach seems to think her movement was a little too much. She closes her eyes and takes a breath, waiting for the sudden nausea to pass, wondering if she drank more champagne last night than she thought, and fearing for her poor head when she finally lifts it from the pillow if that's the case. Deciding to count to ten before she attempts to sit up, she moves slowly onto her back and closes her eyes, holding a hand to her stomach as if that might stop it from churning.

She has just reached eight when the door opens, and as she cracks one eye open she sees Will balancing a large box and two cups of what her nose tells her is coffee. He puts the box down on the dresser and brings the cups over to her, the aroma getting stronger the closer he gets to the bed, as her mouth reacts by watering, her stomach with a fresh lurch of nausea. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, he sets the cups on the nightstand and leans over to kiss her.

"You're awake," he says with a smile, pausing to kick his shoes off onto the floor. "I got coffee and the donuts you were so desperate for."

"You got donuts? I knew I was marrying the right guy." She reaches up and strokes a hand down his arm, smiling back at him. "Did I drink a hell of a lot more champagne last night than I thought?"

"Didn't seem like it, honey." He frowns slightly and she wonders if she looks as bad as she currently feels. "Why? You not feeling great?"

"I'm okay," she says, slowly pushing herself up to sit back against the headboard, relieved when it doesn't make her feel any worse. "My stomach just feels a bit...off, I guess."

"Maybe you just need a donut," he says, smiling at her as he stands up and walks around to pull open the curtains, reminding her that the cottage is right on the sand, the sparkling ocean in full view through the window.

"Yeah, maybe you're right." She nods and notes that her head feels fine, thinking maybe he is right, perhaps she just needs to eat something. "In that case, you're going to need to bring the box over here."

She feels the switch her stomach makes into hunger as soon as she sets eyes on the donuts, a dozen assorted, including the Boston Creme and the strawberry frosted that she had yearned for a few days earlier. There also seems to be something lemon, perhaps vanilla, a caramel, maybe...she's almost drooling as she opens the lid and she lets out a disappointed sigh when Will's hand covers hers and closes the box again.

"We should take these out onto the terrace," he says, leaning forward and kissing her, smiling against her lips and successfully wiping off what she knows was an emerging pout. "It's nice out and hell, we're right on the beach."

"Um, I don't know if you've noticed..." She throws the sheet back and smirks at him. "But I'm not wearing any clothes."

"Well, it is a private terrace." He takes the box of donuts and moves it aside so he can shift closer to her, his mouth landing on her shoulder, on the freckle he loves, and she giggles as his tongue lightly tickles her skin.

"Pretty sure it's not that private," she says with a laugh, running her fingers through his already messy morning hair before laying back against the pillows, watching as his gaze sweeps down her body. "Find me something to put on and I'm there."

Her eyes follow him across the room, first moving the box of donuts to the dresser, then rummaging through one of their bags, pulling out a pair of her shorts and one of his t-shirts which he holds up with a grin, waiting for her to climb out of bed and take them out of his hands. She sits up again, noting that her head feels fine, and when her stomach doesn't protest either she swings her legs around and sits on the edge of the bed, biting her lip as she looks over at him, his eyes fixed firmly on her bare shoulders. Standing up, she tucks her hair behind her ears and walks over to him, side stepping slightly to dip into the bag for panties, which she puts on as he watches in silence. Grabbing the shorts he's holding, she steps into them and drags them slowly up her legs, sighing softly when his hand moves to her stomach and trails up her body, and she feels a tightening in her abdomen when the tips of his fingers brush the undersides of her breast. He hands her the t-shirt and she slips it over her head, giggling when his hand stays under it, his thumb swiping tenderly across her nipple before he lets go.

"You know what I need right now?" She leans up and kisses him, nibbling gently on his bottom lip, pulling back slightly, pushing closer again to run her tongue quickly around his.

"I'd love to think you're about to say you need me on top of you in that big bed," he says, lowering his voice and moving his hand under her t-shirt again. "But I'm pretty sure you're going to say you need a donut."

"And I love that you know me so well." She smiles and covers his hand with her own, lacing their fingers tightly together and squeezing. "You grab the coffee, I've got the donuts covered."

The terrace feels like a room of its own, high screens on either side, a canopy overhanging above, all somehow trapping the sound of the ocean lapping the sand, like being on a boat but without the threat of seasickness. She wonders if the double lounger was another of Leona's arrangements or if all the cottages come with them. Either way, she loves it, and she vows to thank Leona again for this, but first there are donuts to eat.

He's stretched out on the lounger and she's beside him, sitting up, legs crossed, the box of donuts in front of her. The Boston Creme wins out and she picks it out of the box, swiping a napkin from the pile he brought outside with them, smiling at him as she prepares to take a bite.

"Oh, but honey, where's your box of donuts?" She grins a little wider as he takes a mouthful of coffee and raises his eyebrows at her over the top of the cup.

"You're funny," he says with a smirk and a shake of his head.

"I'm deadly serious." She takes a bite of her donut and lets out a satisfied moan as she chews, the chocolate and custard exactly what she has been craving for days. "I mean, I guess I could share, we are married now and all..."

He leans forward and wipes what she guesses is a smear of chocolate from her cheek, sliding his finger into his mouth and licking it off. She scoops a blob of custard out of the middle of the donut onto her thumb and holds it up in front of him, watching his eyes widen slightly before he takes hold of her wrist and sucks her thumb clean, his tongue hot and wet on her skin. Pulling her hand back, she goes in for another bite, pushing the box towards him before she does.

"Is this a trick?" He grins at her as he opens the lid and surveys the contents. "Like, if I pick one, am I going to have my hand slapped?"

"Depends which one you pick," she says, taking another bite of her donut as she watches him choose a chocolate frosted, moving it slowly towards his mouth, daring her to object, smirking and biting right into it when she doesn't.

"Acceptable choice?" He mumbles between bites and she nods as she swallows her mouthful.

"Yep, if you'd have touched the strawberry frosted, we'd have been looking at irreconcilable differences." She puts the remainder of her donut down on the napkin and reaches for her coffee, hot with plenty of cream, the perfect match for the donuts.

"Page Six would've loved that," he says, amazing her by finishing his donut in what seems like it's been only about four bites.

"Well, I live to keep Page Six in work, you know that." She shuffles closer to him and takes his hand, smiling when she sees the chocolate on his finger, bringing it to her mouth and licking it clean. "There, now we're even."

Setting aside her coffee, she reaches for what's left of her Boston Creme, looking up and out at the ocean as she carries on eating, a feeling of pure relaxation coming over her at the sight of the water, the sun bouncing off it under the blue sky. She feels his hand on her knee and turns back to find him smiling at her, his eyes bright in the sun as she returns his smile.

"Do you ever think about what might have happened..." She picks up a maple frosted and breaks it in half, handing one half to him as she continues. "If I'd said no when Charlie and Nancy invited me up here for Fourth of July?"

"Nope." He answers so quickly that she knows he means the exact opposite and she takes a bite of her donut and chews slowly, not taking her eyes off him, waiting for him to rethink. "I mean, I was such a fucking idiot, I don't know if I...I don't know what would've happened."

"You think we'd have carried on the way we were," she says quietly, and she's not angry, or upset, she isn't even particularly surprised, she knows how stubborn he can be and how hurt he was for such a long time. She also knows it took a particular set of circumstances for everything to work out just as it was meant to.

"God, I really hope not." He shrugs, gives her a sheepish smile. "I just know what a-"

"What a stubborn arse you can be sometimes?" She cuts in but she's smiling at him as she leans in to kiss him, suddenly sorry for even asking a question that is so irrelevant now. "Mmm, you taste like maple frosting."

"So do you," he says, cupping her face and sliding a thumb across her cheek. "I'd have come to my senses eventually, you know."

"Without my needing to put on my shortest shorts and throw myself at you?" she asks, shifting slightly and running her foot down his shin as if to remind him she's wearing shorts right now.

"Probably would've taken a while longer without the shorts," he says, with a smirk. "And wouldn't have been anywhere near as enjoyable..."

"Good to know." She leans back on the lounger, resting her head on his shoulder and pushing her leg between his, curling her toes against his calf in response to the light stroke of his fingers across her thigh.

"Do you think the two of us being together all day and all night is going to drive you nuts?" His fingers stop moving and she turns to glance up at him.

"Seriously?" She studies the expression on his face and wonders what on earth has him wondering that. "When we were first together, we worked on the same show, and we were practically living together, and I don't know if you've failed to notice, but we've been doing the twenty four hours a day thing for the past two months, and it seems to have worked out pretty well for us so far."

"Ah, but the ring is on your finger now, that makes it permanent," he says, falling silent again, raising his eyebrows when she sits up and climbs into his lap, her hands coming to rest firmly on his shoulders.

"Now, you listen to me, Billy," she says, feeling him slide his hands under her t-shirt to rest on her back. "I'm not sure what you're trying to get at here, but for me it felt permanent from the minute I realised I was completely in love with you six years ago. The ring is just a nice bonus, a really nice bonus."

"Yeah, it is." His tone is so tender, so sincere, that she has no response other than to move her hands from his shoulders to his face as she smiles at him. "So if HR decide to pitch a fit and try to shift you to Dayside, I should absolutely object?"

"What makes you so sure it'd be _me_ they'd try to move, you great big egomaniac?" Her thumbs stroke across his cheekbones and her smile grows wider.

"Could you see me putting on my fucking happy face at seven in the morning?" he asks, quirking an eyebrow.

"I have a feeling they medicate the shit out of everyone on Dayside," she says with a shrug. "It's really the only logical explanation...but I've definitely seen your happy face at seven in the morning."

"Pretty sure that kind of early morning happy face is reserved for a different kind of show, honey," he says with a laugh.

"Different channel altogether, I think." She nods at him and pushes her fingers slowly into his hair.

"So, if HR come calling, I can tell them to bite me?" His hands drift higher up her back as he leans forward to place the lightest of kisses on her lips. "That we work better together, and that's it."

"I think you should tell them that when we weren't working together, I went to a war zone and got stabbed while your show turned to total and utter shit, so it's really in everyone's best interests for us to work together, and that us being married won't change that." She pauses, frowning faintly at him. "Although I did win two Peabody awards when we weren't working together, so..."

"I really think you should eat another donut," he says, shaking his head with a grin. "You know, before you say something you might regret."

"Je ne regrette rien, mon cheri." She giggles and reaches out beside her for the box. "But sure, I'll take another donut."

*

"Pretty sure this morning's sugar frenzy is well and truly worked off." She smiles as she walks back in from the bathroom on slightly shaky legs and crawls back into bed and rolls over to face him. "Middle of the day sex is nice, we should do it more often."

"Well, my door is always open for you, Mackenzie," he says with a smirk.

"I could be wrong, but I do think HR might have an issue with that," she says, smirking back at him.

"My office does have a bathroom..." He pauses as she climbs on top of him, draping herself over him as she smiles. "The sink in there is a decent height."

"Let me remind you, mister, that I'm your wife now, and if you think I'm going to let you do me in your bathroom..." She slides her hands higher up his chest and grips his thighs between her feet to centre herself. "You could be right."

His skin is warm under hers, his chest offering the comfort it always does as she wriggles slightly on top of him, biting back a grin as he groans faintly in response to her movement. Glancing up at him, she bats her lashes in an affectation of innocence despite knowing exactly what she's doing, the feel of his growing arousal quite obvious beneath her.

"Again?" He lifts his eyebrows in response and she slides herself carefully and deliberately down the length of his body, smiling as she gazes up at him. "You know you married an older guy, right?"

"I do," she says, moving back up his chest and kissing under his chin. "Not that it seems to be making any difference at all right now. Old or not, I'd say you're as good to go again as I am."

"I'm all for smashing stereotypes." He hooks his arms under hers and pulls her up, grinning at her as she leans over him, her lips a mere fraction from his.

"I hoped you'd say that." Leaning down, she kisses him, her nose rubbing gently against his, and her nipples hardening against his chest. "Flip me, Will, I want you on top."

Within seconds she's on her back and he's on top of her, a flicker of surprise in his eyes when he slips a finger inside her and finds she's more than ready for round two, followed by a second finger added for good measure. She moans as he braces himself above her, one hand beside her head, the other working hard between her legs, his fingers moving quickly, noisily, pumping in and out of her as he looks into her eyes. The sound she lets out next is a strangled version of his name, repeated two, maybe three times, she loses track because his thumb has joined the party and she can't think at all. She's crying out his name but holy shit, she doubts she could remember her own right now if her life depended on it.

His mouth opens and she thinks he's going to say something, but he says nothing, instead he dips his head and runs his tongue slowly up the side of her neck until yet again she's the one making all the noise. He nuzzles the sensitive spot under her ear and his thumb settles into a steady rhythm in time with his fingers as he groans her name into her skin. Shifting just enough, he takes her earlobe between his lips and starts to suck, and the gentle pressure combined with a final crook of his fingers makes her come so hard that all she can do is squeeze her eyes tightly shut as she waits for the trembling in her thighs to subside.

"Fucking hell, I love your fingers." She sighs, not bothering to object when he rolls them onto their sides and slips a pillow underneath her before moving back into position on top of her.

"Oh believe me, they love you too," he says as the backs of his fingers run down her arm and he smiles down at her.

"Well, after that performance, they deserve a rest." She pauses to kiss him, her lips staying on his as she continues. "Time to give something else a chance, I know there's another part of your body just itching for a turn, I can feel it..."

His mouth opens and she takes the opportunity to slide her tongue slowly inside, pushing it against his as she wraps her arms around his neck in her need to feel him pressed even more tightly against her. He pulls back, his eyes opening to lock onto hers, and when his hand moves down between their bodies she arches her back instinctively, pushing against the pillow beneath her, biting her lip but keeping her eyes fixed on his as he guides himself inside her.

His movements are slow at first, his thrusts long, slow, deep, his gaze faltering slightly as he plants his hands above her shoulders the way he tends to when he's inexplicably worried about crushing her. She wraps her legs around his thighs and moans loudly, a reaction to the perfect angle created by the pillow he thought to slip underneath her, and a second moan is so loud it seems to echo off the walls of the cottage. He likes it when she's loud, she knows that, he made that clear a very long time ago, and she feels him push deeper into her in response to the sound. Her hands move from the nape of his neck to grip his shoulders, urging him down onto her, looking into his eyes and nodding when he looks unsure, smiling when he lowers himself down onto his forearms until the length of his body is pressed against her.

"Harder, Billy." She pants, her words sounding desperate to her own ears, her voice hoarse. "Harder."

Something in her tone spurs him on and he quickens his pace, pushing harder, deeper, his face moving down to curl into the side of her neck, and when she moans again she feels his teeth scraping across her skin. She hears the shift in his breathing and she knows he's not going to last much longer, but he feels so good inside her that she feels her body tingling as she thinks about how hard he's going to come. Her fingers start to move across his back, her nails dragging over his skin, and he groans against her neck. She arches up again and her lips latch onto his shoulder, sucking faintly on his skin, her feet running up the backs of his thighs as he moans her name into her ear.

He lifts his head from where it's pressed into her neck and moves his mouth to cover hers. It's a slow kiss, deep and wet, his tongue stroking hers, and as his thrusts speed up she knows he's about to come. Trailing her nails across his back again, her lips still pressed against his, she lets out a long, throaty, moaned version of his name and she feels him push hard into her one final time, before he fall still and empties himself inside her with a satisfied groan.

*

"I'm glad you're wearing this, you know," she says, running her finger across his wedding band as she slides her hand into his, confused when he stops walking.

"Why wouldn't I be?" he asks, turning to her, squinting slightly into the sun.

"No, I knew you would, I just...well, some guys choose not wear them, that's all." She tugs on his hand and they start walking again, slowly along the sand, close enough to the water to feel it lapping against their feet as each wave rolls gently in. "I'm glad you're not one of them."

"Not a chance," he says, with a laugh. "Honey, if I could buy a hat with a big arrow that said 'she's my wife' under it, I would."

"You know, I bet there are some beach resorts where you can buy just that kind of hat, but I suspect not this one." She grins at the image he's planted in her mind as she weaves her fingers even more tightly within his.

They walk a little more, falling into a comfortable silence for a few minutes, their hands still clasped together, and she suddenly feels short beside him in her bare feet, sandals in hand. She tries to remember the last time she felt so relaxed and thinks it must have been Fourth of July weekend...the latter end, not the beginning, when she was convinced she was going to end up giving up and heading for the train back to the city. She wonders if that says something about how she feels about the beach, and she thinks again about the conversation they had that weekend about buying a place of their own here. She isn't sure if he was serious, but she realises with an overwhelming certainty that she was.

"Do you remember I said I'd love a place up here?" she asks, thinking about Charlie's house, the deck, the pool...bigger than they need, but just so lovely.

"I do," he says, squeezing her hand. "I think we should think about it before next summer."

"That's what I was going to ask, whether you were serious." She stops and turns, smiling up at him. "And you're right, it would be nice to have a place for next summer, but I love the beach in the winter too. The traffic is lighter, nowhere is quite as busy, we could go for walks in the cold with ten layers of clothes on, and if we bought a place with a fireplace, well...can you imagine how cosy that would be?"

"God, yeah, I can," he says, returning her smile as he runs his thumb across hers. “I’m not going to lie, the thought of you naked in the firelight...well, it's not an image I'm objecting to."

“Then we’re on the same page, because I’m already planning what you can do to me on the rug we’re going to buy to go in front of our fireplace,” she says with a smirk, aware that she’s suddenly more excited about spending winter weekends at the beach than summer.

“I guess we need to figure out where we’d like to buy, and then get someone onto it for us,” he says quickly, clearly swayed by her enthusiasm for a fireplace.

They start to walk again and she thinks about how nice it would be for them to have a place at the beach, for long weekends, maybe even a full week each summer, Christmases in front of their fireplace, not to mention how perfect it would be to bring a little one, if they do somehow end up lucky enough to have a baby one day. At that thought, she sighs and squeezes his hand a little more tightly.

“Unless Leona’s willing to have her plane on standby for us, it would probably make sense to consider somewhere not quite as far out as Montauk, don’t you think?” She watches as he thinks about it, nodding and steering her away from the water and towards the resort bar.

“Even if she did, I know I couldn’t pay you to get on that plane again, honey, so yeah, I think you’re right, that does make sense,” he says as they start to walk up the sand, his hand still in hers. “Drink?”

“Mmm, sounds good,” she says with a smile. “I’d like a really silly cocktail, with a tiny umbrella.”

She spots the two of them as soon as they walk through the door, sitting at the bar, her mother with the exact kind of silly cocktail she is hoping for, and Leona with a glass of champagne. It’s not a surprise that the two women have bonded the way they have, they’re similar in so many ways; honest, strong, forthright, caring, apparently terrifying in a poker game…Leona sees them first, her raised eyebrows no doubt the precursor to whatever comment she’s about to make.

“Well, well, look who made it out of bed!” Leona’s voice carries across the bar and she feels Will cringe beside her as they move hastily closer in the hope that Leona might lower her voice.

“Here she is, my first married girl,” Penny says with a wide grin as she looks at them. “Now, what will you have to drink, darling?”

“What’s that?” She points at her mother’s drink, a faint pink concoction that looks oddly alluring.

“Something called a Spicy Raspberry Collins,” Penny says pushing it towards her so she can take a sip. “Rather delicious it is too.”

“I’ll have one of those too,” she says to the bartender who has appeared as if by magic. “Thanks.”

“Give him some kind of manly cocktail thing,” Leona says, gesturing towards Will. “Tiny umbrella, McAvoy?”

“I was going to just order a beer, but sure, I’ll take a manly cocktail thing.” He shakes his head at Leona but there’s a grin forming on his lips. “I can probably live without the umbrella.”

The bartender turns away and Leona and Penny both turn to stare at the two of them, unnervingly similar curious smirks on their faces. She’s fairly sure they are both itching to ask inappropriate wedding night questions, and at this point it’s really just a question of who cracks first.

“So…” It’s her mother, unsurprisingly, who is the first one to speak up, peering up at them from where she's drinking her cocktail through a bright pink straw. "How was your cottage?"

"Oh," she says, thrown off slightly by the apparently innocent question but not ruling out that it will lead elsewhere. "It was really lovely, thanks. Quiet and comfortable, and we drank our coffee and ate our donuts on the terrace this morning, it was perfect. How's your room, Mum?"

"Thoroughly delightful," Penny answers with a grin. "I found myself spending a considerable amount of time this morning thinking about whether your father and I should just move in and see out our days here."

"Did you reach a conclusion?" she asks, returning her mother's grin as their drinks arrive on the bar.

"Well, at that point I recalled my daughter mentioning that she and her new husband may rather like a place out at the beach," Penny says, pausing as she glances at Will. "So I fancy it would be far more sensible to stay there, of course, for us to be at the beach and to spend time with you. I believe that's what they call a win-win."

"It's funny, we were actually just talking about that." She takes a sip of her drink and winces slightly. "God, that's strong...anyway, yeah, we were thinking we really would like a place up here, so you and Daddy may be in luck."

"Where are you thinking?" Leona takes the final mouthful from her glass of champagne and turns to them, not waiting for an answer from either her or Will. "I know a great realtor, based out of Sag Harbor, covers that area, and East Hampton, back as far as Bridgehampton too, I think. I can give him a call if you like? Introduce you, warn him not to fuck you over, that kind of thing. I mean, I guess you guys want something in time for next summer, right?"

"That's what I was thinking," Will says, tasting the drink she pushes towards him, nodding in agreement at how strong it is before turning back to his own. "But it turns out I married a woman who likes the beach in winter."

"Good for you...both of you," Leona says with a smirk in her direction. "Sea air in the winter is brutal, does fucking wonders for the skin though, and there is something pretty damn appealing about getting drunk beside a roaring fire while your husband warms you up."

"There really is." She nods, feeling her mother's eyes on her too, sure that if she were to glance at her, she would be wearing an identical smirk to Leona's. "We haven't really thought about where we want to look yet, but perhaps if you could call your real estate friend then we could go from there?"

"Consider it done." Leona smiles and stands up, sliding her sunglasses on as she does. "Right now I have an appointment for a massage. Put whatever else you want here on my tab and I'll see you all later to head back to Charlie's place."

With her usual flair, she's gone from the bar, leaving them with Penny, who gestures towards her still full drink and smiles as she pushes it towards her.

"I'm guessing that was your question," she says with a raised eyebrow. "So no, I'm not going to drink it, and yes, you can have it."

"Thank you, darling." Her mother takes a sip and nods in satisfaction. "No sense in it going to waste."

"What's everyone else doing this afternoon?" she asks, reaching for the pitcher of water beside them on the bar, nodding her thanks to the bartender when a glass appears almost magically in front of her. "When we spotted you and Leona in here, I expected to see the others too, or Harry, at least."

"Harry went for a run, which I thought was verging on insanity, frankly, but she said she likes to sweat off a hangover. I prefer a good bacon sandwich, but each to their own, I suppose." Penny says, pulling a face that makes it clear she can think of no worse way to cope with a hangover. "Your father decided he couldn't quite resist the lure of the delightfully comfortable bed in our room, so he's napping, I'm not entirely sure where Rufus and the girls are, and I haven't seen any of your lovely newsroom friends at all."

"They all know dinner is back at Charlie and Nancy's, don't they?" she asks, taking a sip from her glass, realising water was really what she needed, and taking a second, bigger gulp.

"They do, don't worry. Leona has cars arranged for you and for all of us." Penny pats her hand softly and smiles. "Now, do tell me more about that delightful cottage of yours, Mackie. If our bed was like a big fluffy cloud, I can only imagine how yours was."

"I'm going to run to the bathroom." Will runs his thumb slowly across the back of her neck as he stands up, and she smiles at him. "I'll be right back."

"Darling?" At the sound of her mother's voice, her tone laced with amusement, she realises she had been watching Will walk across the bar, her eyes fixed on him, a small smile dancing across her lips. "I'm aware he makes a rather arresting sight, but you're married now, you can take your eyes off him for a few seconds and he won't disappear."

"Sorry, I was just...yeah," she says, shaking her head and turning to her mother. "The cottage was great, Mum, we had a really lovely night, and I feel more rested than I have in weeks, I slept like a baby."

"I'm sure you did, you must have been absolutely worn out." There's an unmistakeable smirk on her mother's face as she looks at her. "With yesterday being such a busy day, I mean."

"You know, sometimes I think it's your mission in life to embarrass me." She finishes her water and reaches for a refill.

"I have five children, it's my mission in life to embarrass all of you," Penny says, finishing the last of the cocktail she inherited. "Oh, alright, I shan't press for details, but would I at least be correct in assuming you had a...successful wedding night?"

"Mum, for crying out loud!" She says, not surprised by her mother's line of questioning but still wishing Will would hurry back and save her from it. "Your assumption is quite correct. Last night was very successful. As was this morning, if you must know."

"I wouldn't exactly say I must know..." Penny grins at her. "This morning too, well-"

"Twice, actually." She stops her, deciding to try to stun her into silence by playing her at her own game. "With a break for donuts. Satisfied?"

"It certainly sounds like you were, darling." The smug look on her mother's face serves as a reminder that in this game, there is only one winner, and she sighs with relief when Will returns and sits back down beside her.

"Another drink, Penny?" he asks, noting the empty glass in front of her.

"As tempting an offer as that is," she replies, pausing in thought before she shakes her head and gets to her feet. "I really should go and rouse my husband from his afternoon coma. I'll see you both a little later to head back over to the house. You should go and...swim, take a nap, eat donuts, or whatever else a pair of newlyweds might do to pass a couple of hours."

She kisses them both and departs with a grin, leaving Will with a hint of a flush spreading across his face that is beyond endearing, even if she suspects she has a similar colour in her own cheeks.

"Did your mom just..." He stops and slides his hand over hers on the bar, gently squeezing her fingers. "Oh, God."

"Oh, we're way past that, Billy. She essentially just asked if we enjoyed our wedding night sex," she says, leaning in and kissing him quickly, erasing the look of horror on his face, before pulling back and lowering her voice. "I told her we very much enjoyed it last night, and twice this morning."

"This was a desperate attempt to play your mom at her own game which resulted in you giving her the exact info she was fishing for, right?" He grins, and she loves that he knows her mother's tactics almost as well as she does.

"Absolutely." Giggling, she moves in closer again, watching as his eyes widen just slightly. "You know, she's right though, we do have a couple of hours, we could take advantage of that big bed one more time."

"My wife has the best ideas," he says, standing up and pulling her up with him, threading his fingers tightly through hers as they head back across the bar.

*

Sunday night dinner is as frantic as the previous days have been, everyone crammed into Charlie and Nancy's dining room, then out onto the deck for drinks, as has become the habit. The expected calm after the wedding doesn't materialise on Monday either, the morning passes in a whirlwind of everyone arriving once again at the house, and sees a party of twenty two taking a post-breakfast walk along the beach. It's late into the afternoon before she really has time to sit, to breathe, to reflect a little on everything as she sits on on the deck, with Ned for company.

"Do you mind if I interrupt?" Frankie steps outside, where Ned is concentrating on a jigsaw puzzle on the table in front of him.

"You're not interrupting at all." She smiles at her youngest sister, watching as she turns to close the door behind her before heading over to them. "I'm under strict instructions from this young man here not to help unless he's really stuck. Isn't that right, Ned?"

"Yep," he says, glancing up at her, wearing a small frown of concentration. "I can do it by myself, but if it gets real hard, I might need just a little bit of help."

"It looks like you're doing really well," Frankie says, smiling as he nods and goes back to the puzzle. "I spotted you two out here and realised I'd hardly had chance to see you at all, and we're going home in a couple of days."

"I know, I can't believe everyone's leaving so soon, it feels like you just got here," she says, smiling at her sister. "These last few days have gone so quickly, I'm sorry we haven't had much time together."

"Oh no, don't apologise, I didn't mean it like that," Frankie says, quickly, looking worried as she reaches over and squeezes her arm. "Gosh, I know how busy this has all been for you. All I meant was that I thought I'd take the chance now to hang out with you a little, without the addition of a million other people."

"You've had fun with everyone though, I hope?" she asks, pushing a puzzle piece closer to Ned when she sees him stretching to reach it.

"I have." Frankie nods, smiling widely at her. "It's been so nice to meet everyone you and Will work with, and Charlie and Nancy are so lovely, and...hell, Mackie, you're married."

"I know!" She smiles at her sister's apparent realisation, and Ned looks up at them.

"To Will," Ned says with a grin. "She's married to Will. Did you see me carry the rings? Grandma said she was proud of me and I did a real awesome job."

"I did see, Ned," Frankie says, smiling at his incredibly sweet declaration. "And your grandma was right, you did a really great job. Everybody thought so."

Ned goes back to his puzzle and Frankie grabs a donut from the box open on the table, grinning at her as she smiles and joins her.

"God, I really have to get a grip of these donut cravings when we get home," she says, licking her lips in anticipation of the Bavarian Creme she's just selected. "I'm going to end up the size of a house."

"It would take more than a few wedding weekend donuts for that to happen," Frankie says, holding up her donut. "Anyway, I'm fairly sure if we eat them at the same time, that cancels out the calories in both."

"And I'm fairly sure that's not even the slightest bit true, but it's a theory I can buy into for now," she says with a grin. "Ned, would you like a donut?"

"Well, I would..." He pauses, looking at the box, then back at his puzzle. "But I really want to finish the puzzle, so maybe later."

"Okay, sweetie." She smiles and ruffles his hair playfully. "You can have one whenever you're ready."

"The wedding was really lovely, Mackie," Frankie says, taking a bite of her donut, pausing while she chews on it. "Mmm, that's yummy. Yeah, the wedding was gorgeous, I love that you had it here, it was so relaxed that way, and you looked amazing, and I'm just...blimey, I wasn't going to get all sentimental, but you and Will are so right together, you know. I really couldn't be happier for you."

"Thank you," she says, overwhelmed by what, for her very quiet youngest sister, was really quite the speech. She swallows hard and gives Frankie a wobbly smile. "Can I give you a tip, as an old married woman now?"

"You've been married for a whole day, and you're far from old..." Frankie returns her smile and picks up her donut again. "But yes, go ahead."

"Just...when you find someone and you know it's right." Pausing, she thinks about everything she and Will have been through, all the pain and uncertainty, and she can't bear the thought of any her sisters going through the same. "Hold onto it, don't do anything to jeopardise it, just...well, when I think of how I blew it with Will the first time, and then if Charlie hadn't brought me to New York, well, you know..."

"Now, I know life isn't a Disney film, Mackie, but I do think that you and Will would have found your way back to each other eventually," Frankie says, and her voice is soft but there's complete certainty in her words. "I think Charlie just made it so you weren't sixty by the time it happened."

"Thank God for that!" She laughs and takes a bite of her donut as Frankie does the same and they both watch Ned, lost in concentration, working on his puzzle. "Oh, the bridesmaids dresses, was that your idea?"

"Cat's," Frankie says, shaking her head. "She emailed everyone and suggested it, and Sloan kind of took charge from there."

"Sloan did?" She doesn't know why that surprises her, and she makes a mental note to thank her friend before they all leave to head back to the city, back to normality.

"It seemed to make sense with her being the one in New York." Frankie continues, smiling at her. "Harriet coordinated everything, made sure of all of our measurements, Sloan picked out a selection of dresses and then we voted for our favourite."

"You're wonderful, all of you," she says quickly, moved almost to tears again. "And I promise next time you see me, I won't be crying at every little thing like I seem to be right now. Quit the donuts, stop crying, those are my immediate goals."

"Don't cry, Mac." Ned's voice surprises her and she turns to where he's looking up at her, concern on his face. "Are you sad?"

"Oh, honey, no, I'm not sad at all." She runs her hand gently up his arm and smiles at him. "I'm happy, I'm really happy, and sometimes that can make you cry too.”

"Oh, well...that's kind of crazy," he says, frowning as he seems to be thinking about what she's just said. "I think...I'd like a donut now."

She smiles as she watches him peering into the box, trying to decide, before eventually reaching for a chocolate frosted, grinning up at her as he makes his choice. When she turns back to Frankie, she sees the look in her eyes that she's seen before, the silent question of whether a baby might be in her plans now that she's married. It was bad enough having to tell her mum that no, probably not, and she absolutely can't face having the same conversation with Frankie, her youngest, sweetest, most hopeful sister.

"There seems to be a ton of food and drink on offer in here." The door opens and Will steps onto the deck, smiling as he sees the three of them around the table, and relief at his perfect timing floods through her. "Although it seems you're doing fine out here...how about some drinks to go with your donuts?"

"I could use a drink," Frankie says, standing up from the table and holding her hand out to Ned. "How about you, young man, some juice perhaps?"

Ned stands and takes Frankie's hand, and as she watches the two of them heading in towards the kitchen Will seems to sense something in her mood, stepping further out onto the deck and pulling her against him.

"I'm fine," she murmurs against his chest, sliding her arms around him and letting out a long breath.

"Okay," he says quietly, and when he rubs his hands slowly up and down her back she closes her eyes and starts to relax.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Taking his hand, she walks across the kitchen to the window, feeling his fingers squeeze hers as he stops behind her and they look out at the view. It's not the city she ever imagined would end up their home, they were such a DC couple and she always imagined their future would be there, and until just two short months ago she thought of New York as the place where she would eventually grow used to being alone._

“Now, are you sure you won’t come back with the rest of your family, Mac?” Leona asks, standing outside the car with them. “I mean, I get that you’re afraid of the flight, everyone's afraid of something, I’m afraid of…actually no, I’m not afraid of anything. Anyway, you’re certain you want to sit in post-holiday traffic for God knows how long, while the rest of us will back in the city in a matter of a half hour?”

“For the peace of mind it will give me, the extra time is worth it, believe me, and actually, this is way nicer than being on the train like the others,” she says, raising an eyebrow as her mother comes down the drive, a bag in her hand which appears to be filled with food. “What’s this?”

“Snacks, darling,” Penny says, in a tone that suggests they’re about to scale the north face of the Eiger, rather than just head back to the city. “I can’t have my newly married daughter starving to death on the Long Island Expressway.”

“I think that’s highly unlikely, Mum, but thanks.” Smiling, she takes the bag out of her mother’s hands, glancing up at Will, a faint smirk on his face. “Okay, we probably should get going.”

“Just an aside, I pay him for his discretion as much as his driving.” Leona gestures in the direction of the driver and smirks at them. “So, if you do get bored in the no doubt hellish traffic you’re about to willingly launch yourselves into, feel free to amuse yourselves in that great big backseat.”

"Not going to happen," she says quickly, noting Will's huff of laughter beside her. "But thanks."

"We'll see you two this evening, won't we?" Penny asks, leaning forward to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear, like she's still a child who can’t quite organise herself.

"Oh yeah, we have one more night with Elliot on the air, right?" Leona frowns slightly, looking at Will. "Of course, we have a bunch more nights from next week when you're doing the honeymoon thing, so if he starts to become popular...actually, News Night with Elliot Hirsch doesn't have quite the same ring to it, I think you're safe."

"Yeah, we’ll see you all tonight, Penny.” Will answers her question and manages to dodge Leona’s comments with a smirk in her direction.

“Alright, you two really should get out of here.” Leona nods and turns back towards the house, passing Beau and Ned as they head out in the opposite direction.

“Hey,” Beau says, smiling as they reach the car and Ned lets go of his brother’s hand to grin up at her. “We wanted to catch you before you left.”

“Yeah, I wanted to say goodbye and give you hugs,” Ned says, his grin fading and a tiny frown creeping across his forehead. “But wait, when are you coming back?”

“Oh, I’m not actually sure, sweetie,” she says, smiling at him before reaching down to pick him up, unable to resist a final cuddle. “Soon though, we’ll make sure we visit really soon. Right, Will?”

"Well, I guess that depends if I'm invited. Do I get a visit too Ned, or is it just Mackenzie you’re going to miss?” Will grins at him and reaches over to run a hand quickly through his hair as he giggles.

“Hmm, I guess you too,” Ned replies, and she can’t help the snort that escapes her at his answer. “Yeah, you should both come visit.”

“Then we’ll make sure we do, okay?” she says, smiling as his fingers once again find her necklace and start to play with it. “And maybe, if your parents say it’s okay, you could come and visit us.”

“In the city?” Ned’s eyes go wide and as he swivels his head around to face his brother, she has to hold tighter to him to stop him hurling himself right out of her arms. “Beau too?”

“Sure,” Will says, smiling at Ned’s obvious enthusiasm and Beau’s understated smile which indicates the same. “You guys can both come, as long as it’s fine with your mom and dad.”

“Can we go on the boat? Or to the zoo? And in the big park?” Ned asks, barely pausing between questions. “And can we get milkshakes?”

“I’m sure we could do at least some of those things, buddy, yeah.” She sees Will grin at her as Ned throws his arms around her neck, squeezing tight hold of her as he giggles.

“I’m going to tell Grandpa we’re going to the city with you!” He slithers down out of her hold and runs halfway back to the house before stopping and turning back to wave at them. “Bye!”

Waving back, she turns and smiles at Will, wondering if she’s just opened herself up to a day, possibly an entire weekend, of complete madness, and then she thinks about how much fun it would be to take them to the zoo, or on the Staten Island ferry, and she definitely wouldn’t object to milkshakes. Maybe spending time with a teenager and a four-year-old will make her less inclined to devastation at the thought of not having children, although she fears it may do the opposite and prove to her just how much she wants a family.

In the car she checks her phone, scanning the news headlines before opening her email, smiling as she sees a handful with something along the lines of 'congratulations' as their subject line.

"Email from Brian Williams, he says congratulations and he totally understands why he wasn't invited, he really wouldn't have wanted to put me in a position where I would have had to make a difficult choice," she says, smirking as she reads the message out to him.

"How noble of him," he says, rolling his eyes as he grabs for her phone, grinning when she pulls it out of his reach. "What does it actually say?"

"It says…I understand you've made your choice, Mackenzie, and, despite my heartbreak and completely bafflement over your decision, I respect that." She pauses, bites her lip, makes like she's reading a long and detailed message. "However, Will's a decent guy, he's about as rich as I am, and I've heard he's delightful between the sheets-"

"You almost had me, but Williams would never concede to me having as much money as him." He grins at her and reaches for his own phone, pulling up his emails. "Would this be the email that actually reads 'Congratulations to you both, I hope it was a wonderful weekend. Regards, Brian' that you're expanding on?"

"Could be," she says, about to continue when his phone rings and he glances at it, hesitating long enough before answering that she sees the screen.

"Will speaking..." As he answers it, she edges slightly closer to him, not even pretending that she isn't trying to listen in. "Hi Stacey, yeah, good, thanks...you do? That's great, thanks...absolutely, I really appreciate it...sure, yeah, okay, will do. Thanks again."

"So..." She's still none the wiser, and Will making the call as brief and as cryptic as he just did really didn't help. "The mysterious Stacey?"

"Yep." He nods and drops his phone onto the seat beside him, turning to her and giving her a casual smile that would be infuriating if she wasn't almost certain this is some kind of surprise for her.

"Anything I need to know about?" She smiles at him and slides her hand onto his thigh, her fingers running slowly along the inside seam of his jeans.

"Yep." He repeats his answer and his smile grows impossibly sweeter, even as her nails start to drag across his thigh.

"Right...is this an attempt at communicating telepathically, Will?" Leaning in, she brushes a light kiss to his jaw, hoping to catch him off guard. "Because I hate to break this to you but I don't think it's working."

"You'll see when it's time for you to see," he says, grinning at her when she rolls her eyes.

"You know, I don't think we're meant to keep secrets now we're married." She looks up at him, gives him her most persuasive smile, knowing even as she tries that it won't get her anywhere. "I'm not keeping anything from you."

"Pretty sure the no secrets rule doesn't apply when it's something good." He shrugs and reaches for the bag her mother gave to them as they got into the car, pulling out two bottles, one Diet Coke, one peach iced tea, eyebrows raised.

"Thanks." She smiles and takes the iced tea out of his hand, peering into the bag to see what else her mother thought they might need, her eyes widening when she sees the cookies, grapes, and chocolate in the bag. "I think my mum really overestimated this journey."

"Did she put M&Ms in there?" he asks, opening his Diet Coke as she nods and looks through the bag.

"She did, and I could totally withhold them until you tell me who Stacey is," she says, pulling out a bag of M&Ms, opening them and popping one into her mouth.

"You wouldn't..." He reaches for the bag, smirking when she pulls it back.

"There are worse things I could withhold." She crosses her legs and her foot settles against his shin, moving slowly up towards his knee.

"Oh yeah, there definitely are." His tone sounds pained at the thought, and she giggles as he lunges for the M&Ms, a pout drifting onto his lips as she pulls the bag just out of his reach. "Do you really want me to tell you? And when I'm done with that, should I just tell you where we're going on honeymoon? You know, cancel out all possible surprises I may have planned for my new wife?"

"You're so dramatic." She grabs his hand and shakes a pile of M&Ms into it, kissing him before he puts the first chocolate in his mouth. "Now shut up and eat your M&Ms."

*

"Where are we going?" She frowns at him, confused by the direction the car is heading, definitely not towards their apartment.

"Home," he says simply, pointing vaguely out of the window, but saying nothing more, waiting and smiling at her at the very instant he knows she has realised where they're headed.

"But...I don't get it, we...they said we should be able to move in at the end of the month, after the honeymoon..." She feels a slow grin moving across her lips and suddenly she thinks she knows who Stacey is. "That was the call earlier, wasn't it? You've been plotting, haven't you?"

"I don't know that I'd say plotting, but I may have pulled a few strings to get us the keys a little earlier, yeah." He looks so obscenely proud of himself as they pull up outside their new apartment that she is completely unable to quell the urge to reach for him, grabbing hold of his face in her hands and kissing him hard before pulling back to grin at him. "And that is Stacey."

She looks out of the window and sees a young blonde woman standing at the bottom of the steps, a set of keys in one hand, a phone in the other, which she slides into her bag when she sees their car come to a stop outside the building. She can't seem to move, all she can do is try to take in that this is it, the first place that's theirs, their first proper home together. They're going to move in, and not in three weeks or a month from now, but today, right now, and that's the thought that gets her moving as she follows him hastily out of the car.

He introduces her to Stacey, she thinks they're congratulated on the wedding, there may be small talk about the holiday weekend, but she can't be sure. She can't be sure of anything besides the sight of the keys in one of Will's hands and the feel of his other hand in hers as they climb the steps up to their door. Inside it's exactly as she remembers from the last time they looked at it, when they stood in the kitchen and bickered over the colour of the tiles for the bathroom, her need for a bigger closet, and whether the second bedroom should be an office or a guest room, grinning at each other the entire time.

"You still love it, right?" he asks, breaking into her musings as he steps in front of her and smiles.

"It's ours, Billy," she says, smiling back at him, fighting the lump in her throat. "It's not your place or my place that kind of ended up as ours, it's what we chose together, to be our home, so yeah, I love it."

“Thank God,” he says, letting out a relieved breath. “I really didn’t want the movers to have to take all of our shit back again. It took them three men just to move your shoes.”

“I don’t have that many shoes.” She starts to protest but then what he just said sinks in and her smile grows wider. “Hang on, you had all of our things packed and moved while we were away?”

“Yeah, when I found out we could get the keys earlier, I didn’t see the point in showing up and still having to figure out all of our stuff.” He smiles and gestures in the direction of the hallway. “I asked them to just pile up as much as they could in the second bedroom. I mean, we never did really decide what we want to do with it yet.”

“God, we really do need to think about that at some point,” she says, nodding and smiling back at him. "I can't believe you managed all this and I didn't have a clue."

"Yeah, well, I just wanted us to move in, and you were pretty busy once your mom and your sisters got here, which made it easier." He shrugs faintly but she can tell he's proud of himself, as he should be, considering the feat he has pulled off.

Taking his hand, she walks across the kitchen to the window, feeling his fingers squeeze hers as he stops behind her and they look out at the view. It's not the city she ever imagined would end up their home, they were such a DC couple and she always imagined their future would be there, and until just two short months ago she thought of New York as the place where she would eventually grow used to being alone. Moving from the kitchen into the living room, she smiles as she sees the old couch of his, the one that she expected to protest about when she moved in with him, only for her protests to die the minute she realised it was actually the most comfortable couch in the world.

When they reach the second bedroom, she stops and leans against the doorframe, peering in to see several columns of boxes stacked high, and even though the room is nearly as big as the master bedroom, it's almost full.

"God, that's going to take some unpacking." His voice is quiet in her ear and his hand squeezes hers a little tighter.

"I know, but the unpacking is the fun part, deciding where everything should go, and what else we need to buy." She tugs on his hand and starts to lead him towards their bedroom. "It feels different too, because it's ours. I know you've owned a place before but I never have, and it feels...big, I guess. I don't know, I'm probably making no sense."

"No, you are, it is big," he says as they walk into their bedroom, furniture in, and their bed looking bare with only the mattress sitting on it. She climbs onto the bed and hopes the box with their bedding doesn't turn out to be on the bottom of one the many piles.

"Mmm, we made a good choice with this bed, it's comfy." She stretches herself out, lying flat for a few seconds before rolling onto her side, propping her head on her elbow, and grinning at him. "Come and see for yourself."

"It'd be even better with pillows," he says, joining her and turning onto his side, mirroring her pose. "Which we'll hopefully find when we scale our tower of boxes."

"I'm going to go out on a limb and assume the boxes are labeled, since you probably paid the movers a fortune, so yeah, we'll find them," she says with a grin. "So, at least now I know who Stacey is..."

"Yeah, I didn't want the guy we'd been dealing already with to call me because I figured you'd know who he was, you’d put two and two together, and, yeah…” He pauses, frowning faintly. "Who did you think she was?"

"I didn't think anything, really, I was just curious." She shrugs but his question throws something up, a sudden current of insecurity which she knows makes no sense but that she can't help questioning. "Why, what would you have thought if it had been me getting messages from some guy you didn't know?"

"I guess I'd assume it was work related, or he was a friend or..." She knows the very second he seems to realise what she's thinking and his frown creases his brow a little more deeply. "Wait, what else would I have thought?"

"I'm just...you wouldn't be even a tiny bit suspicious? There wouldn't be a part of you that started to wonder if you'd been crazy to trust me again?" she asks, unsure why she's raising the question at all. She knows he trusts her, the same as she does him, but the sudden need for reassurance is overwhelming and she bites her lip as she waits for him to answer.

"We've more than covered this, honey, or so I thought. I trust you implicitly, you know that. You also know damn well I couldn't marry someone I didn't trust and hell, I don't know if you noticed, but we got married three days ago." He stops and she smiles, her brain filled with images of their wedding, of the pure certainty in his eyes when he said his vows. "Seriously though, are you questioning whether I trust you? After all the talking we've done in the past couple of months?"

"No," she answers quickly, firmly, not questioning his ability to trust, more questioning her own right to that trust. "No, I'm not, I'm sorry, I didn't mean that, I know you trust me, I know you-"

"Alright, let me make this completely clear." He cuts in, determination running through his tone as his frown softens into a smile. "I trust you more than anyone in the world, I trust you with my life, Mackenzie, and I don't question your commitment for a single fucking second. Clear enough?"

"Perfectly," she says, smiling sheepishly, feeling silly for the thought even crossing her mind. "How long do we think I can get away with blaming all of my strangeness on residual wedding hormones?"

"I'd say you can stretch it though the honeymoon," he says as he leans in and kisses her, his hand resting on the side of her face, his lips firm against hers, reiterating his words. "After that, you might be pushing it slightly."

"I'll bear that in mind." She smiles at him and reaches over to run a hand down his arm. "How would you feel about getting started on those boxes?"

"Have you been lying here this whole time thinking about freeing your shoes from captivity?" He smirks and she gives a nod.

"Not the whole time..." she says, drifting off as she thinks about unpacking, arranging everything, making the place feel like their own. "But I wouldn't want them to start thinking I've abandoned them...and if we happen to find the box with the bedding then maybe we could, you know..."

"Take a nap?" he asks as he raises an eyebrow.

"Not really what I was thinking, but sure, if you want to nap." Her hand still on his arm, she strokes her fingers across his skin and shifts closer to him.

"Well if you weren't thinking of sleeping, I don't know that we really need bedding, do you?" He slides his hand across her waist, deftly flicking open one of the buttons on the shirt dress she's wearing, pulling her closer and leaning down to kiss her.

"Testing out the bed in its pure, undecorated state?" She nibbles lightly on his bottom lip and opens her mouth wider, his face in her hands as his tongue slides against hers.

When his hand trails slowly down her arm she feels the hairs rise in response, and she marvels not for the first time at the instant reaction his touch always elicits in her, and wonders how she ever thought she could adjust to a life without it. She's never been kissed by anyone who means it the way Will does, who kisses with everything he has, his heart completely and totally laid bare for her. It's in moments like this that it hits her that he'll be kissing her like this for the next forty years, and the realisation brings a smile to her lips, her mouth curving against his as he pulls back and looks at her, a trace of curiosity crossing his face.

"Do you have any objection to christening this bed before we've...dressed it?" His hand slides inside her dress, his fingertips tickling her waist as he talks.

"No objections here..." She pauses and pushes her fingers into his hair, her thumb gently rubbing his temple. "If this bed has no shame in being undressed, I don't see why we should be worried."

She keeps her eyes on his as her fingers move to the button of his jeans, and his breath catches slightly as she slowly unzips him and pushes her hand under the waistband of his shorts, grinning when it's clear he appreciates her decision to waste no time.

"Someone's in a hurry," he says, pausing again to suck in a breath as her hand moves further into his shorts and her fingers wrap around him.

"Mmm-hmm." She nods as she starts to move her hand, stroking him, slowly at first, picking up the pace as she feels him start to get hard under her touch. "Fast can be good too."

"You really...God, yeah." His eyes flutter shut for a few seconds, opening again when she lets out a slightly hoarse laugh. "You really want to get to the unpacking, don't you?"

"I do, I really do," she says, her words backed up with a moan when his hand pushes up her dress to drag her panties halfway down her thighs and a flood of wetness greets his fingers as he starts to move them against her. "Keep doing that, Will, holy shit, keep doing that."

It's clumsy, and they're in a slightly awkward position, his jeans still half on and his shorts shoved down, her dress pushed up and her underwear stopping her from opening her legs as wide as she would like, but somehow the combination leads to an urgency that she finds completely exhilarating. She pushes her hips up to meet his, biting back a loud moan as he rubs himself against her and slides two fingers quickly inside, pushing them deeper, curling them back, flicking his thumb through her wetness as she hears herself begging him for more. His lips cover hers and she squirms under him, needing more than his fingers, her hand reaching for his and her tongue sliding desperately against his. His fingers slide slowly out of her and she feels them wet and sticky against her thigh for just a fraction before he lifts up just enough to push himself inside her in one hard stroke, and in that one single move is everything she was craving.

She wants it hard, she wants it fast, and she reaches for his hands, scrambling to thread her fingers through his and pulling him down onto her. A wave of satisfaction runs through her when he senses her need and slams their joined hands down behind her head, pushing deeper into her and murmuring her name as she moans his. She tightens her grip on his hands, and the harder he drives inside her, the louder she moans, her eyes closing as she hears her name tripping from his lips over and over. As she tilts her hips, he moves even deeper inside her, taking her right to the very edge of pleasure, stopping just at the point of crossing the line into pain. It's a place she's only ever been comfortable reaching with Will because he's the only one she trusts to know where the limit is, to feel when she's in the mood to push beyond it, to recognise when she needs the slim threat of something more than usual.

He squeezes her fingers and she opens her eyes to look at him, his eyes dark and his breathing ragged as he thrusts harder and faster. There's something about them still being dressed, his jeans hanging off his hips and her dress pushed messily up around hers that makes this feel illicit, rushed, oddly naughty, and hotter than ever. She's not going to come in this position, she knows that, but she wants him to come hard into her, so she tightens her muscles around him, biting her lip as she watches his eyes widen.

"Jesus, fuck, Mackenzie." It's always a good sign when his eloquence fails him, so she repeats her manoeuvre and smiles as he pushes her down harder into the mattress and lets out a long, slow groan.

"I love how profound you get when you're about to come, it's like TV Will has been replaced by wild Will." She breathes the words, a slow smile tugging at her lips. "I like it."

"Good, it's..." He stills to kiss her, a swift, hard kiss that steals her breath before he pulls quickly back and starts moving again. "Best I can do right now."

"Kiss me again, Billy." She moans as he gains pace again, blinking heavily the way he does when he's close. "I want your tongue in my mouth when you come."

Her words have the effect she knew they would and his mouth is barely on hers, his tongue just sliding between her lips when he slows down and she feels him come into her with one final, hard stroke as he groans into her mouth. Lazily, she kisses him, more an opening of mouths than an actual kiss, but she likes the feel of his lips against hers as she feels him gradually softening inside her before he reluctantly slides out with a sigh.

"Holy mother," she says, dragging her words out slowly as he lifts his head to open his eyes and gaze into hers. "Happy new apartment to us."

"Oh no..." He untangles his fingers from hers and smiles. "You're nowhere near done yet, honey."

"I don't need to..." She stops as he moves down the bed, pushing her dress higher and kissing his way down her body, nibbling gently on the skin above her belly button before eventually settling his head between her legs, his tongue swirling slowly like he's savouring an ice cream cone. "Oh...okay, oh God."

She should have known he wouldn't settle for her going without an orgasm, even though she really doesn't feel lacking, far from it. She makes a note to tell him that sometimes it's enough to feel him on top of her, inside her, and that she really isn't keeping score. Hell, she spent enough of her life before Will with men who couldn't have given a damn if she ever came, it's enough that she married a man who knows exactly how to make it happen. She knows him better than that though, is more than aware of his need to please her, to impress her, even though she hopes he knows he does that every day without even trying. Still, when his tongue is doing what it is right now, she's more than fine with his need to please.

She feels his hands grip on to her thighs, his fingers pressing tightly enough into her skin that she wonders absently whether she can expect the appearance of the tiny rows of bruises that always make her feel like she has a secret. He knows this side of her, he knew it almost from the first few times they slept together, and he likes it now, but it took him a long time to stop being afraid of hurting her, to resist the urge to keep asking if she was okay, even when she was the one asking for more, begging him to go faster, harder. His uncertainty briefly resurfaced after the night they talked about her relationship with Brian and the extent of his behaviour, his need to control and her inability to recognise it or stand up to it for so long. The night had ended with her climbing into his lap and telling him there's a difference between a man who understands that sometimes rough can be good, and a man who plays rough because it makes him feel good, gives him an illusion of power.

His thumbs slide lower down her thighs, moving where he needs them to so his tongue can flatten against her, soft like velvet, lapping slowly, sucking gently, and giving rise to a surge that comes up through her chest before exiting as a low moan. Propped up on her elbows, she watches him as he looks up at her, his eyes dark again as his tongue slips through her wetness, pushing hard against her and then easing off, only to start moving in slow circles when her moans grow louder.

Only when her arms can’t seem to hold her up anymore and she tries to grasp onto the sheets does she remember they never got as far as looking for the sheets, so she groans in frustration and bunches her already creased dress into her fists instead as her head falls back against the mattress. He starts alternating between long, slow strokes of his tongue, and fast, firm flicks and she doesn't know whether to scream or moan. The sound that comes out is a cross between the two, oddly amplified by her attempt to bite it back.

She can't manage anything coherent, so she repeats his name over and over, louder, dragging it out across her lips, falling quiet when his thumb joins his tongue in a rhythm that leaves her unable to do much more than gulp for air. Lifting his head, he looks up at her again and when he licks his lips she hears herself whimper in anticipation of his mouth finishing the job it has started. It takes only the circling of his thumb and a quick, hard flick of his tongue to send her over the edge, and she comes with a guttural moan as she squeezes her eyes tightly shut.

By the time she gets her breath back and opens her eyes, he has moved up the bed and is next to her again, his hand on her stomach, his fingers mindlessly running across her skin, stopping and raising an eyebrow only when she giggles suddenly.

"Look at us," she says, her gaze flitting to his shorts and jeans hanging off his hips, to her dress pushed up around her waist, to the bare mattress, without a single adornment making it feel like an actual bed. "We're ridiculous."

"I take exception to that," he says, grinning as his fingers start to move again, across her skin to her waist so he can pull her towards him. "We're serious journalists who just happen to look ridiculous at this particular moment."

"Right." She smirks and runs a finger down from his hairline to his jawbone, leaning against him and pressing a soft kiss to his lips, startling when his phone beeps loudly. "Was your phone in your back pocket while we were...I mean, did we just have sex with your phone right where you could have arse dialled anyone?!"

"Looks like we did, yeah." He nods and there's a smug grin spreading across his lips as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out the phone. "I guess it's a good thing you wanted me on top...ah, it's your sister."

"Harry?" She frowns in confusion. "Has something happened? Could she not get hold of me?"

"Nothing's happened." He shrugs and holds the phone in front of her, and she can feel him smirking again as she pulls back slightly to attempt to read the message.

"If you're back in the city, can you let me know if we're going with Operation Hudson or Operation Riverside?" She looks up at him, eyes widening as the message sinks in. "She knew? That we might be moving in today?"

"Yep." He nods, clearly pleased with himself for not only for succeeding in surprising her but for somehow keeping her sister, and quite possibly her parents too, in the loop without any of them spoiling things either.

"Wow, looks like she did pick up some of Mum and Dad's covert ops skills, after all," she says, feeling a smile creeping onto her lips. "God, if you message back, does that mean they're going to be on our doorstep in twenty minutes? Because we're not exactly visitor ready."

"Nah, we're safe, they're coming at six," he says as he smiles back at her and raises an eyebrow suggestively. "So what would you say to trying to find the box with the towels so we can test out the shower?"

"I'd say I married a fucking genius." She covers his hand with hers and smiles a little wider.

*

She was right in her assumption that the boxes would be labeled, meaning the towels are retrieved quickly, the shower is tested (and thoroughly approved of), and they're both dry and dressed within half an hour of climbing out of bed. The first thing she insists on is making the bed, the urge to have it look like theirs too strong to resist, so she sends him to start trying to sort the boxes into some kind of order while she does.

She's trying as best she can not to push him too hard into unpacking, but she's consumed by a yearning for things to be as neat as they can be before her family drops in to see the place before they leave for the airport. She knows it's irrational, everyone knows that they literally just moved in, she's not going to be judged by her own family for failing to unpack within four hours, but still she wants to do as much as they can.

"We're staying home tonight, right?" she asks, as she opens one of the boxes marked 'Mackenzie- clothes', that he has dragged into their room, pulling out jeans, yoga pants, tank tops, most of the clothes that haven't been brought on hangers and taken straight into their bedroom.

"Yeah," he says, making a start on the first of his boxes of clothes, and she knows all of his clothes will be unpacked before she even reaches her shoes. "Unless you want to go out?"

"No, I want to stay in," she says, stopping what she's doing and turning back to him, smiling at his quizzical expression. "I think...after everyone leaves, you know...and we need to get ourselves back into work mode for the next few days. Anyway, I just want to stay home."

"Works for me, honey." His smile is sweet and she knows he can sense her reticence to say goodbye to her family, but she doesn't know if he realises how much more of a wrench it feels this time than usual, for reasons she absolutely can't put her finger on.

They finish unpacking their clothes, books, everything that they need for the bedroom, and she feels instantly more peaceful, telling herself that he's right, nobody will expect the place to look anything other than freshly moved into, and that having their bedroom ready is all that matters for now. Overwhelmed suddenly, she sits down on the edge of the bed and takes a breath, looking around the room. She gives him a smile she hopes is one of reassurance when he turns to see her sitting there, one she knows has fallen short when a worried expression shadows his face and he crosses the room to sit beside her.

"The rest of those boxes won't unpack themselves, you know." His shoulder nudges hers and she takes his hand, pulling it with hers onto her thigh and threading her fingers through his.

"I know, I thought I'd wait until my sisters get here and put them to work," she says, smiling up at him, happy to see him relaxing a little. "Seriously though, you're right, it isn't like they all need to be unpacked right now, I just...I don't know."

"You're a raging perfectionist who won't rest until everything is where it should be and there isn't a damn box in sight," he says, shaking his head in amusement.

"Don't forget it's my raging perfectionism that keeps our show on the rails every night, Billy." Her fingers move against his and she shifts her gaze down, her eyes fixed on the sight of their joined hands, an unexpected pang of how much she missed holding his hand when they were apart hitting her out of nowhere. "You looking handsome in a suit and looking sexily into the camera every night isn't quite enough, I'm afraid."

"Dammit, all this time I've been labouring under nothing more than an illusion." He smirks and squeezes her fingers as she brings her hand up to her mouth to cover a yawn.

"God, I'm so tired again, I don't know what's going on," she says, frowning at the wave of fatigue washing over her, almost in slow motion, like something is literally pulling her down to the ground, telling her to sleep.

"You only have to make it through three days of work, four I guess, with the anniversary broadcast on Sunday, and then we're done for ten days," he says, dropping a soft kiss into her hair.

“I know, I can’t wait.” She nods and glances down at her watch, sighing as she reluctantly stands up, knowing that her family is on the way and if she sits a minute longer she’s just going to want to sleep.

*

Harriet is the first one through the door, closely followed by her sisters, parents, and finally her brother and sister-in-law, all staring at their surroundings like a school group on a museum visit. As they walk down the hallway and into the kitchen, she isn’t surprised to see Penny running her hand slowly across the counters, she knew when they chose the marble that her mother would approve, and it seems she was right.

“Ooh Mackie, this is beautiful, these surfaces are to die for.” Penny smiles at her before turning and winking at Will. “No offence if this marble was your choice, Will, but this kitchen has Mackenzie written all over it.”

“She held up some samples, I guessed which one she was leaning towards and agreed,” he says with a shrug.

“Look at you, married for mere days and you’re already the perfect husband,” Penny says with a smirk, before moving through the kitchen and out into the living room, nodding her approval. “That fireplace is quite delightful too, this room will be just darling in the winter.”

“How many bedrooms, Mac?” Her brother speaks up and follows as they lead the way down the hallway. “Two?”

“Yeah.” She nods, stopping at the second bedroom and pointing inside. “This is the smaller room which we’re using for storage right now, and we haven’t quite settled yet on what we’re actually going to use it for. Office, guest room, beautiful shoe closet…”

“Man, I’ve always wanted a shoe room,” Harriet says, sighing wistfully. “Damn, this would be perfect, but I guess it could make more sense to have it as an actual bedroom to put, like, people in. God though, imagine a room of shoes, Trip.”

“I know.” She can imagine it, rows of storage, her shoes all laid out in a perfect display ready for her to choose from. She can also picture the room with a crib, complete with a mobile hanging above, toys on every surface, and wallpaper in whatever cute pattern they agree on.

“Whoa, your bedroom is gorgeous!” Harriet has moved on and is in the doorway of their room, peering in and grinning widely. “That bed is huge. Maybe we should all get out of here so you can road test that thing.”

"What do you think we were doing all afternoon?” Her mind is filled with thoughts of exactly that, the road test they already carried out with such enthusiasm that she blushes now as she thinks of it. "I'm kidding, we were busy unpacking this afternoon, obviously-"

“Oh my God, you're totally serious!” Harriet’s eyes are wide and she lets out a triumphant snort. “You two really don’t any waste time, do you? Damn, Trip, you guys are married now, you probably need to, like, take it down a fucking notch or two, have old, married sex twice a week or whatever.”

"I have news for you." She leans closer to her sister and lowers her voice. "That's never going to happen."

Glancing over Harriet's shoulder, she sees her father walking towards them, Will beside him, and it sounds like they're in the midst of a conversation about plumbing, no doubt her dad sharing some tale or other about one of the many houses they lived in as a transient diplomat family. They move closer and she smiles at the two of them, leaning against her father's shoulder when he puts an arm around her.

"You need to leave, don't you?" she asks, knowing the answer but dreading saying goodbye to them all so much more than she usually does.

"I'm afraid so, poppet," her father says, squeezing her a little tighter, injecting a reassuring note into his voice. "But we'll talk soon, I want to hear all about the honeymoon, and I'm almost certain your mother will be booking a flight within minutes when she finds out you've bought a place up at the beach."

"I swear he thinks I'm hard of hearing." Penny appears and grins widely at her, giving Robert a mock glare. "Now, I want you to have the most glorious honeymoon, enjoy every second of it, darling, it's not every day you get to drink cocktails and admire this handsome husband of yours in his shorts. You will call when you get back, won't you, and tell us all about it?"

"Yes, of course," she says, hearing the crack in her voice and silently chiding herself for her sentimentality. They Skype, they email, they call, and while she knows it's not the same as being with them, usually it's enough, but this time her heart feels heavy and her eyes fill with tears.

"Good heavens, Mackie, we're not going to the moon!" She gives a shaky laugh at the shock in her mother's voice, and she knows it's because she never does this, never has to force back tears, never clings to her father like she is right now.

"I know, I know." She shakes her head and clears her throat. "Shit, this wedding, I don't know what it's done to me. Alright, this is absurd. Okay, I'm okay, sorry."

"Come here." Penny pulls her into a tight hug, running her hands soothingly down her back before pulling back to kiss her cheek. "We need to leave, you're going to have a nice evening with your new husband in your beautiful new apartment, and that's all there is to it. Do you hear me?"

Nodding, she feels her father's arms around her too, then her sisters', Sheila's, her brother's, until finally she feels Will's hand slide into hers as they follow her family to the door and watch them getting into their cars to head to the airport. When they disappear down the street and out of sight, she takes a deep breath as Will squeezes her fingers and they close the door, heading back inside, home.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _It’s late on Thursday afternoon and she’s making final changes to the script for the evening when he appears at her door, stepping inside the office and frowning, a sheet of paper in his hand. She knows what it is without having to ask, she can read the anxious look on his face, so she smiles and beckons for him to come in and shut the door._

It somehow feels like they’ve been away from the office for much longer than a week, maybe because in that time her parents arrived, she got married, moved into a new home, and said goodbye to her parents again. In just a few days they will head off on honeymoon, the destination still unknown to her and being closely guarded by Will, but for now she’s enjoying being back at the office. The routine is going some way to make her feel normal again, to stabilise her, and the focus on work just about keeps her tiredness at bay, although she does wonder what it will take to shake this apparently endless fatigue. Two weeks with Will hopefully somewhere in the sunshine definitely won't hurt.

It’s late on Thursday afternoon and she’s making final changes to the script for the evening when he appears at her door, stepping inside the office and frowning, a sheet of paper in his hand. She knows what it is without having to ask, she can read the anxious look on his face, so she smiles and beckons for him to come in and shut the door.

“I think we’re all set for tonight,” she says, watching as he paces the room, waiting for him to decide what he wants to say, to ask what he needs to. “Sloan’s happy with the extra couple of minutes too, that was a good call, I think.”

“I’ve read through this a hundred fucking times, and I still don’t know if it’s right.” He sighs, the frown creasing his brow again as he tosses the sheet of paper onto her desk.

“This is for Sunday?” She knows it is, but he clarifies with a sharp nod.

“I just…I don’t want it to be shit.” Finally he sits down, dropping into the chair opposite her and sighing again. “It can’t be shit, Mac, I can’t go on air with this if it’s-”

“It’s not going to be shit, Will,” she says, pushing her glasses up her nose as she glances down at the script, his familiar scribble all over the page and his scratched out revisions making her smile. “And if it is, I’ll just have your incredibly talented EP rewrite it for you.”

“I’m serious, I need you to look at it, and I need to know if it works, and if not, why not, I need it to be good, I need this to be up there with the broadcast we did the night we got Bin Laden.” He pauses to take a breath, running a hand across his forehead and back through his hair as a hint of a smirk appears on his lips. “But before you say it, no, I’m not planning on getting wasted this time around.”

“Good, because if anyone’s going to be getting wasted, I think it’s my turn." She grins at him, knowing as well as he does that there's no way she could pull off a broadcast like he did that night if she was high. She would be far too busy giggling and counting the stripes on his tie. "Why are you...what are you actually worried about?"

"Fuck." He shrugs quickly before standing up and striding over to the window, shoving his hands into his pockets and saying nothing.

"Will?" She knows he's brooding, over thinking, when if he would just go with his instinct this script would almost write itself.

"I'm worried about misjudging it. What if I'm not serious enough, or respectful enough, what if I can't strike the right tone?" He turns back to her and he looks so anxious that she can't help but stand up and walk over to him, standing beside him, her arm brushing his.

"Can I tell you what I think you should do?" She bites her lip and looks up at him, continuing when he nods. "Just...do what you did ten years ago when you didn't have a choice, go with your gut. You were calm and sympathetic, and you were compassionate, and people knew they could trust you, just like they do now, night after night.”

"You saw it, the broadcast?" he asks, turning to face her, surprise evident in his tone.

"Not on the day, no, but yeah, I've seen it, and it was up there with the best piece of reporting I've ever seen, no word of a lie." She remembers the day Charlie sat her down two weeks after she arrived and showed her some clips, telling her he thought it might help if she was reminded of just what Will was capable of. As if she could ever have forgotten. “You were perfect."

“What made you watch it?” His surprise has turned to curiosity, and it makes her smile.

“Who, rather than what,” she says, pausing for just a second as she thinks about it. “I’d been here for a couple of weeks, I was convinced you still hated me, I hadn’t really even unpacked anything in my office because I was fairly certain you were going to fire me before the month was out, and I guess Charlie could sense how anxious I was. He asked me if I was regretting my decision, and I said no, I just wasn’t completely convinced after being out of the game for a while that I could do the job anymore and I didn’t think I was the EP you needed, and I definitely didn't think I was the one you wanted. I used to go and hide in one of the editing bays, you know, at first. Not often, just when it got a bit too much and I needed to centre myself-“

“You used to hide out in an editing bay?” His voice is quiet and heavy with what she recognises as guilt. “Shit, Mac, I had no idea.”

“That’s why it’s called hiding, you weren’t meant to have any idea.” She smiles softly at him, hoping to see the concerned look shift from his face. “Anyway, one afternoon Charlie found me in one of the bays and said he thought there was something I should see, just in case I’d forgotten how good you were, how good you still could be with the right EP, and that’s when he showed me the broadcast.”

“And did it…help?” The cloud lifts slightly and he looks a little less worried.

“I’m still here, aren’t I?” She runs a hand down his arm, squeezing his hand quickly before letting go and walking back to her desk and picking up the script. “Today’s Thursday, the broadcast is Sunday. I’m going to suggest you leave this alone for the rest of today, just let your brain do its thing without you pushing it. Come back to it tomorrow and if there’s still a block there, we’ll sit down and rethink it together, okay?"

“Yeah, I guess…” He sighs but it’s a relieved sigh this time, rather than one of frustration. “Yeah, you're right.”

“I usually am.” She shrugs, keeping her tone light because she knows he’s worrying because he cares about this broadcast, but she also knows that whatever he writes, or whatever they write together, he’ll deliver perfectly on Sunday night.

“Well, you did marry me,” he says, a grin creeping slowly onto his lips.

“I know, but even I can’t be right every time.” She returns his grin and watches as he heads for the door.

*

"God, not yet," she mumbles and bats what she assumes is his hand from her shoulder. "Ten more minutes."

She's usually the early riser, and if anything she's the one prodding him to get out of bed long after the alarm has gone off, but this week she's tired, she's really tired and all she wants is ten more minutes of sleep. Sliding slowly back into a gentle doze, she feels his hand on her shoulder again, this time accompanied by the sound of her name, quietly at first before becoming more urgent.

"Honey...Mac...Mackenzie, you awake?" It's a stupid question, she thinks, because she can't fail to be awake now with him bothering her like this.

"What's wrong?" Her voice is only just audible, so she clears her throat and tries again. "Hmm?"

"I've been up forever and I think I'm happy with it, or happier than I was, I guess, but I need you to read it," he says, as a piece of paper is wafted in her face as she sighs.

"Looks good, honey," she murmurs, hoping he's just shown her something that required nothing more than a cursory glance, a hope that is dashed when he nudges her shoulder again until she finally rolls over, blinking at him as angrily as she can manage. "What the fuck time is it?"

"Around seven or so, I think." He shrugs and she pushes her hair out of her face and blinks again, trying to clear the bleariness from her eyes. "But it's Saturday so I promise you can go right back to sleep, just as soon as-"

"Being Saturday makes it worse," she says as she closes her eyes again. "I'm just going to have half an hour more, and I'm sure whatever it is will be great, okay?"

"It's the script for tomorrow, I couldn't sleep, I've been up since five, and I think it's pretty much there," he says quietly, running his hand slowly down from her shoulder to her elbow. "If you could glance at it real quick, just so I know I'm not barking totally up the wrong fucking tree, then I promise you can roll right back over and go back to sleep."

"Fine, alright." She drags her eyes open slowly, and he hands her the paper, which she hands straight back. "There’s no way my eyes are working yet, you need to just read it to me. That'll work better anyway, I can imagine I'm listening to you on screen and I'll know if it sounds right when it's in your voice."

"Yeah, okay, that’s actually a really good point." He turns the sheet of paper and she reaches out to rest a hand on his chest as he starts to read. "Okay..."

He's right to be pleased with what he's written. It's simple but heartfelt, it's compassionate and gentle without being even the slightest bit patronising, and most of all it's honest, it sounds like words he would say to the people he loves, it sounds like something he'd say to her, and she knows immediately that she won't suggest changing a word of it. When he finishes she can somehow sense his hesitation just in the way he's breathing, so she moves closer and snuggles into him, her fingers curled against his chest, gripping his t-shirt.

"What do you think?" She feels his arm slide around her, his fingers trailing softly across the back of her neck, into her hair. "Is it alright?"

"It's way more than alright, Billy," she says, smiling and pressing a kiss to the warm skin on the side of his neck. "It's honest, and it's compassionate, and it sounds like you...I mean, I can tell it's coming from the heart, and the viewers will be able to as well."

"You're sure? It's okay?" He sounds unsure and she tilts her head up to kiss him, hoping to convince him that she isn't just trying to placate him, that the script really is perfect, smiling at him as she pulls back.

"It's seven on a Saturday morning and as much as I'd love to still be asleep, you know I wouldn't humour you, not on this." Despite her sleepiness, her voice is firm, her conviction solid. "It's good, honey, I promise you, it's really, really good. Good enough that I'm this close to letting you off the hook for waking me at this ungodly fucking hour. So put the script away and get back in here properly with me."

It's after nine when they manage to drag themselves out of bed and she wonders if she had stayed awake when he woke her at seven whether she might have avoided feeling now like she's been dragged from a five year coma. Her first coffee seems to have limited effect, but her second thankfully starts to make her feel something close to human again. She catches a hint of a smirk on his face when she has to stifle a yawn in between sips, and she reaches out and swats him on the arm.

"Nine hours sleep not quite enough for you?" he asks, his smirk disappearing into his coffee mug.

"Nine broken hours because someone woke me up at the crack of dawn so he could have a completely unmerited crisis of confidence." Her retort is quick and sharp but her smile dilutes it slightly.

"For a half hour," he says, grabbing her hand and squeezing her fingers. "I woke you up for a half hour, and it didn't seem to break your pattern too badly since you managed to crash out again for another two hours almost the second I stopped talking."

"Whatever." She shrugs and her fingers tangle tighter in his as she frowns slightly. "It really isn't like my supremely confident husband to question his broadcasting abilities though...why the wobble?"

"I don't know, I guess it's like I said the other day, this is big, and it matters and I want to get it right." He sounds much less tightly wound than earlier, and she thinks he probably knows now that he's ready, that what he's written is good, but she's happy to reassure him again anyway.

"And you will," she says simply, nodding at him with a smile. "At the risk of sounding like a stuck record, I'm going to say again that it's good, it's ready, and I really think you can afford to stop worrying about it."

"Do you think we should go over it again one more time?" he asks, his hand running across the back of his neck in a gesture she recognises as nerves.

"I think the complete opposite, actually. I think it's done, it's ready and we should just step back for today, leave it alone and then take a final look tomorrow." She strokes her thumb slowly across his before lifting their joined hands and kissing the back of his, watching his face relaxing slightly as he digests her words.

"You know, I married you because you're hot and I like your legs in shorts, but hey, you're pretty smart too." He raises his eyebrows and laughs when she squeezes his hand a little harder and narrows her eyes at him. "What do you want to do today?"

What they end up doing is eating too much toast, drinking a lot more coffee, spending a shamelessly pleasant amount of time in the shower together, and failing to agree on what they want to do with the second bedroom, agreeing to save any further discussion until after the honeymoon. A need for some air sees them spending a chunk of the afternoon strolling through Riverside Park, and she finds herself content just to be walking with him, holding his hand like she missed doing for so long. There's a stop for ice cream and a wander along the river, with a slight detour to Westside Market for the burgers and salad she suddenly craves for dinner, before they head home.

"It's weird how it feels like we've lived here forever, don't you think?" she asks, glancing out of their huge kitchen window as she chops tomatoes and he keeps an eye on the burgers. "Or maybe that's just me, a real estate agent's dream."

"Pretty sure you were a dream for them the second you walked through the door and said you'd do whatever it took for us to live here," he says, grinning and stepping behind her to take the cheese out of the fridge.

"Yeah, that probably wasn't my coolest moment," she says with a laugh. "I just didn't expect to walk into a place and know instantly that I wanted to live there, I thought that sort of thing was a myth, if I'm honest, the whole thing about knowing right away when you find where you want to live."

"Well, cool or not, you were right, it's a great apartment." He starts to slice the cheese, pausing to look over at her. "Even if our second bedroom is destined to be a storeroom for the rest of time."

"I just want us to be sure what to do with it. It'd be such a pain to decide to use it for one thing, only to realise actually it would have been better as something else." She finishes the tomatoes, hurls them into the salad bowl and turns to the onions. "We'll figure it out sooner or later."

"Yeah," he says with a nod. "We'll get there."

*

She finishes knotting his tie and slides her hands down the crisp cotton of his shirt, coming to rest against his chest. His charcoal suit, white shirt, and blue tie with a faint grey stripe are all working perfectly with his hair and to bring out the blue of his eyes.

"There, you're good to go." She smiles at him, pleased to see no trace of nerves in his eyes as he returns the smile. "Just the right level of serious but sexy."

"Is that what we're going for tonight?" He quirks an eyebrow and she nods.

"It's what we're going for every night, but it's working particularly well tonight." Moving her hands from his chest, she takes hold of his tie, running it through her fingers as she looks up at him. "Yeah...I'd hit it."

"You would, huh?" His eyes widen and she smirks at him.

"Mmm, I might take you out to Hang Chews after the show and see if I can get lucky," she says, glancing quickly at the door and back at him. "Couple of drinks in you, who knows...a girl's got to try, right?"

"I'm not quite the easy pick up I used to be..." He says, pausing when she bites her lip and blatantly flutters her lashes. "But I do have a bit of a thing for really smart long-legged brunettes, so I'd say yeah, it's definitely worth a try."

"You're not nervous, are you?" She drops his tie, smoothing it down against his shirt and nodding in satisfaction.

"Why would I be nervous?" He smirks as he continues. "Sounds like you're a pretty sure thing."

"I do admire a confident man but I'm far from a sure thing. You want all this..." She takes a small step back and rests her hands on her hips, pushing her shoulders back and tilting her head slightly. "You're going to need to work for it."

"Oh, I can do that, I can absolutely do that," he says, reaching for her and running his thumb slowly across her bottom lip, smiling when she purses her lips and kisses it. "But first we have a pretty big show to get through."

"We do," she says with a nod. "And you're going to be great."

"Just...stay in my ear, okay?" It's the first trace of anything other than confidence she's heard all day, and at this stage in the game she can let him off. "I mean, I don't-"

"I'm there, Billy, it's the only place I want to be between eight and nine, and not just because they're paying me." She smiles and takes hold of his hand, pushing her fingers into his and squeezing. "Alright, fifteen minutes, I need to get moving. Good show."

"You too." He strokes her fingers as she slides them free from his and smiles at her.

The atmosphere in the control room is just as she likes it, it reminds her of other big broadcasts; the day they covered the Tucson shooting, the night of Bin Laden, and when things feel urgent, important, it's the only time she has a fleeting yearning for field reporting again, to be where things happen so fast you barely have time to do more than just react. It’s not something she would consider again though, she feels settled now, she has what she wants here with no need to chase something more. For the first time in her life settled doesn’t feel the same as constricted, and she likes it.

She knows he’s good, she knew from the first day she snuck into his control room six years ago when she wasn’t sure about taking the job, ten minutes into the show that night she had known she had to work with him. She remembers striding into his office afterwards, turning her confidence and charm up to its maximum levels while silently praying he would want to work with her. He was on stellar form that night and he is again tonight, he’s striking exactly the right tone, which she knows is what he was worried about, and his delivery is a perfect combination of informative and warm. At each break for commercials she hears his voice in her ear, surreptitiously seeking approval, a series of small, satisfied smiles crossing his lips when she makes it clear he has it. At some point, she's not certain when, Charlie makes his way quietly into the control room, saying nothing, merely watching from the back of the room, watching her at first before his eyes flick to Will on the screen.

During the final break, she slides her headset down around her neck and walks into the studio, standing deliberately in front of the desk where she knows she will block the camera’s view of them.

“You holding up in here?” She gives him a soft smile as she leans on the desk.

“Yeah, I’m good, it’s going okay, right?” he asks, frowning faintly and tapping his pen repeatedly on his notepad.

“It’s going more than okay,” she says, leaning in and removing the pen from his hand, smiling again when he raises an eyebrow. “If I didn’t have rules about professionalism and there wasn’t a camera currently trained on my arse, I’d kiss you senseless to let you know exactly how great it’s going.”

“Damn you and your rules…” The frown clears from his face and he smiles. “I don’t remember… do the rules stretch to the after show drinks?”

“I don’t... oh, sixty back.” She smirks and gives his hand a quick squeeze before turning and heading back to the control room.

“He’s alright?” Charlie smiles and rests a hand briefly on her shoulder as she passes him.

“Yep, fine,” she says, glancing quickly at him as she slides her headset back on before shifting her attention back to the monitor ahead of her. “We don’t see you down here too often these days. You okay?”

“Absolutely.” He moves to the back of the room, behind the control desk, and leans against the wall, grinning at her when she throws a curious look over her shoulder.

She cues Will back in at the ten second mark, shaking her head indulgently when he looks into the camera and winks quickly at her just before he schools his features back into place and prepares for the final segment. He wraps it up with a short but genuine two minutes that makes her more proud of him than ever, and she has to cut the feed long enough to clear the lump from her throat before she can speak.

"And we're clear," she says, watching as he lets out a long breath of what she knows is relief. "Good job, Will."

"And you, Mac." Charlie's voice startles her and she turns to see him beside her, a gentle smile on his face. "That was a seriously great show, I'm proud of you both, really fucking proud."

"Thanks." She returns his smile as she removes her headset and pulls her hair out of the knot she had forced it into. "You coming for a drink?"

"Nah, this old guy's going to head home," he says, gesturing to the studio where Will is still sitting, tidying the papers in front of him as he takes out his earpiece. "I'll go in there and see him before I go."

"Goodnight, Charlie," she says, watching him go into the studio and pat Will soundly on the back before she picks up her water bottle and heads back towards her office.

Her emails have been checked and she's closing down her computer when he appears in her doorway, changed into jeans and a dark blue shirt, looking relaxed enough that she knows he's pleased with how the show went. Standing up, she walks around the desk and picks up her bag, feeling his eyes following her as she does, his gaze meeting hers when she looks up at him. Curving her lips into a smile, she walks over to him and takes his hand, leading him out of the office and through the bullpen, empty already, presumably because everyone is already one drink down across the street.

"Good show tonight, bro, damn good." Sloan is the first one to greet them as they walk into the bar, smiling as she makes her point. "Now, go drink with your staff so I can catch up with your wife here before you whisk her off on fucking honeymoon and I don't see her again for two weeks."

She finds herself steered towards the bar, Sloan's arm linked with hers as Will looks slightly bemused but heads over to where the rest of the team is sitting, and she sees them slapping him on the back, clearly letting him know what a great job he did earlier. When she turns back to Sloan she sees a smirk on her friend's face, fading for only the few seconds it takes her to order Cosmos for both of them.

"He did good, Kenzie. You both did," Sloan says as they climb onto two bar stools. "It was a great broadcast and Charlie thought so too. He had his proud papa face on when he left. Will looks calmer than I've seen him in days so I'm pretty sure you can relax now too. You look...exhausted."

"Thanks." She raises an eyebrow and reaches for the drink that's just appeared in front of her. "Exhausted is always the aesthetic I'm aiming for. Good to know I'm hitting my target."

"Just saying what I see." Sloan shrugs and takes a sip from her drink. "You're still hot, obviously, just, like...tired hot."

"Is tired hot a thing?" she asks, amused by Sloan's attempt to put a positive spin on having just told her she looks essentially like shit. "I'm not sure it is."

"Maybe it's a thing you're pioneering, I don't know." Sloan shrugs yet again and turns to her drink. "I guess some honeymoon downtime might be what you need. You're leaving tomorrow, right?"

"Yep." She nods, wondering suddenly how much Sloan knows, grinning slowly as she looks at her. "I don't suppose you know where we're going?"

"You suppose right, I absolutely do not," Sloan says, and she knows it's the truth since her friend is as bad a liar as she is. "I mean, fuck, I tried, but Will asked me a bunch of questions and then said he estimated it would take around a minute and half for you to squeeze the details out of me so refused to tell me a thing."

"Dammit," she says, but she's smiling because in a little over twelve hours they'll be at the airport and all will be revealed. She can wait. "What's going on with you, anything I've missed while I've been in wedding frenzy world?"

"Nope, sadly not, my life is currently as dull as yours was until a couple of months ago." Sloan takes a gulp from her glass and then smirks at her. "No offence."

"I feel like I actually come off pretty well in that comparison, so none taken." She smiles at her friend, watching as she drains her glass while her own drink has barely been touched.

"You want another?" Sloan asks, frowning when she realises she's almost a full drink ahead of her. "Oh, I guess not."

"No, thanks, I'm fine," she says, shaking her head. "I'm going to drag Will out of here soon, we need to get home and get packed for tomorrow. I just wanted him to make sure he saw everyone after the show tonight, to just...I don't know, it just seemed like it would be good for him to put in an appearance, I guess."

"Alright, well, before you leave you need to go over there and find someone who's going to get over here and drink with me, since it's pretty obvious you're not going to. I don't really care who," Sloan says, glancing across at where everyone else is sitting, grabbing her arm as she climbs down from the bar. "Enjoy your trip, both of you. You're now officially my favourite married people and I love you."

"We will, thanks," she says, grinning at her and surprising them both when she leans forward and wraps her in a tight hug.

"Okay, that's enough of this sentimental madness. Go, have a great time, we'll drink properly when you get back." Sloan smirks and watches as she finishes her drink in one mouthful before turning to move across the room to extract Will from the rest of the team.

The company she recruits for Sloan ends up being Maggie, who hugs her before she goes and tells her what a great show it was, and how she's so proud to work for them, before smiling slightly lopsidedly and moving across the room to sit at the bar. Will steps up next to her and tangles his fingers in hers, asking silently if she's ready to leave, following her with a smile when she nods and tugs on his hand to pull him towards the door.

"Sloan says Charlie was happy after the show," she says as they get into a taxi. "I'm assuming he told you as much?"

"Yeah, he did." He nods and she feels his hand slide onto her thigh as she leans against him in the back of the car. "There was some 'damn, you've come a long way since you were first at ACN' accompanied by a lot of 'bringing Mackenzie up here last year was the best thing I've ever done'. All true, obviously."

"Well yeah, obviously." Her thoughts turn to the honeymoon again as she realises it's late, they're not yet home and they haven't packed a thing. "We need to pack when we get home tonight. I really don't want to leave it until the morning."

"Fair enough," he says and even without looking at him she can hear the smile in his voice. "This is the part where you ask me to give you a clue about what to pack, right?"

"It might be useful," she says, lifting her head from where it's resting against his arm. "It'd be a disaster if I packed my swimsuits and shorts only for us to end up at some ski resort or other."

"You're safe with swimsuits, and you definitely need to pack shorts, honey." He smirks at her and shakes his head at her efforts. "And that's it, that's all you're getting."

*

She has no idea whether they're at the airport on time, early, or late, because he won't tell her exactly what time their flight is, so convinced was he that she would start googling and figure out where they were going. So "around noon" is the most he's been willing to reveal, which has actually proven surprisingly amusing even if it did mean she had to let go of being in control of any of this.

They're just inside the check-in area when he pulls her aside and guides them both against the wall, knowing that she will have noticed which airlines fly out of this terminal and assuming quite correctly that she would rather him tell her now where they're going rather than actually at the check-in desk.

"Okay, if you had to guess, where do you think we're going?" His grin gives away how pleased he is with himself to have managed to keep it a surprise the entire time.

"I really have no idea," she says, although she does have a vague idea of which direction they're flying in at least. "California?"

"Keep going," he says, and she can't help enjoying how much he's loving prolonging the surprise. "Right direction though..."

"Same direction as California, but further?" she asks, confused for only a second more before the penny drops, loud and clear. "Oh my God, Billy. Are we going to Hawaii?!"

"You told me once that Hawaii looked like a magical land and that you've always wanted to honeymoon there." He smiles and hands her a printed out reservation, which confirms that Hawaii is exactly where they're heading. "I couldn't marry you and even consider taking you anywhere else."

"I love you, Will McAvoy." She throws her arms around him, not caring that they're in public, in the middle of the airport, not caring at all, giggling when he lifts her off the floor. "You're a great big, sweet, beautiful teddy bear of a husband and I really, really love you. Hawaii, we're going to Hawaii!"

"Yeah, we are." He sets her back down on the floor and grins before he leans down to quickly kiss her. "Ready to check in?"

"Yes!" She grabs his hand and only just stops herself from squealing in her excitement. "Let's go!"


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _She thinks that perhaps this is just what she needed, what they both needed, somewhere far enough away from everyone, where work feels almost like an abstract concept, where they can completely decompress._

It’s everything she imagined it would be, and it makes her smile to think that she’s actually here, on her honeymoon, in the place of her childhood dreams. She wasn’t really the sort of little girl who had big, elaborate dreams about her wedding day, or spent her time sketching wedding dresses, so it’s funny that she would have associated Hawaii with her future husband even then. The future husband who is now her actual husband is dozing in the sun lounger beside hers, even though when he wakes up he will no doubt claim he wasn't sleeping at all. She shifts slightly and turns to watch him, the book he was reading still in his hands but abandoned and resting against his chest, and his face totally relaxed as he sleeps. There is such a long list of things she loves about him, so many traits that make him the best person she knows, but right now she's not ashamed to be cataloguing the purely physical attributes that make her happy. His blonde hair, which she admittedly loves best when it's not on its best TV behaviour, his broad, solid chest, his strong arms, and his big hands harbouring surprisingly deft and remarkably talented fingers. Even though they're closed right now, his eyes are high on her list, with their striking shade of blue and their inability to hide what he's feeling, and she thinks she noticed them before anything else when they first met.

She won't close her eyes because if she falls asleep she won't wake up the light golden colour Will is turning, she'll wake up pink and will have to spend the rest of the time covered up, cursing herself for making the mistake of dozing in the sun. As it is, she's comfortable where she is, taking the opportunity to watch him sleep, to appreciate the sun leaving it's gentle mark on his skin. It's warm but there's a breeze and with every faint gust she catches the smell of the salt in the water and it eases her further into relaxation. She thinks that perhaps this is just what she needed, what they both needed, somewhere far enough away from everyone, where work feels almost like an abstract concept, where they can completely decompress. A faint rush of regret runs through her as she remembers falling asleep before ten last night, meaning they haven't had Hawaiian sex yet (not that she thinks Hawaiian sex is different from any other, but still...maybe honeymoon sex is a better description).

"You checking me out?" he asks, his eyes opening slowly and a smirk appearing on his lips.

"Maybe." She smiles as he lifts the book off his chest, closing it and setting it down on the lounger. "And berating myself for falling asleep last night before we could get to the fun honeymoon stuff."

"Is this what happens when you don't take a vacation for fuck knows how many years? You get somewhere like this and just crash out for two weeks." He turns and reaches over to her, his hand resting on her shoulder, his thumb running tenderly across her skin.

"I really think it might be," she says, sighing softly at the contact. "I'm awake now though..."

"Mmm, so am I, and you know, we probably shouldn't stay out in the sun too long on our first day..." He fixes his eyes on hers and she feels a familiar warmth run through her that has nothing to do with the strength of the sun. "Wouldn't want to overdo it, right?"

"You're right." She nods and bites her lip as she drops her gaze to his chest, down to his shorts and back up to meet his eyes as she lowers her voice. "We should go inside instead and, you know..."

"I think I do know," he says, watching as she smirks at him. "But feel free to clarify."

"Indulge in some sexytimes, make sweet love, get jiggy, do as the monkeys do..." Pausing, she leans a fraction closer and runs her tongue slowly across her top lip. "Fuck. We should go inside and fuck."

"Holy shit, Mac." His brows raise and she feels his thumb dig slightly harder against her shoulder in response to her words. She's no innocent, she can talk dirty with the best of them, and she knows he likes it, but she doesn't do it often unless she's consumed by the heat of the moment, rarely in the cold light of day. His reaction reminds her it's worth pushing those boundaries occasionally.

"Oh, was that not what you were thinking?" She can't resist playing with him just a little, blinking slowly and giving him her sweetest smile. "Because this is a nice hotel, I'm sure we could find plenty to do if you didn't want to..."

Her words trail off and she grins as he grabs his book, his t-shirt from under the lounger, and scrambles for his shoes. Standing up, she turns and reaches under her own seat for her cover up, feeling his hand settle on her hip and his warm breath on the side of her neck as she slips the long linen shirt over her head.

"It's definitely what I was thinking," he murmurs into her ear as his fingers slide under her shirt and inside her bikini bottoms, dancing lightly across her abdomen. He groans when she covers his hand with her own and pulls his fingers free.

"Upstairs, Billy, before we have to call Charlie to tell him you've been arrested for shoving your hands into my bikini in a public place," she says, unable to keep the smirk from her face.

She grabs his hand tightly and pulls him quickly from the beach and back up towards the hotel, neither of them saying another word until they're two floors from their room and finally alone in the elevator. Another bonus of Will booking them into the suite covering the entire penthouse floor means that there is a point en route where they know nobody else will be joining them on the elevator, a point he takes full advantage of by pushing her into the corner and kissing her. The doors let out a soft ping and she grabs a handful of his t-shirt and half pulls, half pushes him into their suite, his lips not leaving hers for a second. Books, sunglasses, towels, sunscreen are all discarded somewhere between the elevator and the bedroom, and both of their shirts hit the floor before they reach the bed, even though she has no recollection of breaking the kiss. At the foot of the bed, he stops and this time he does pull his mouth from hers, moving his hands from her face to her shoulders. She can hear his breathing matching hers, faster than usual, laced with the sudden urgency that has her stomach flipping over in her desire for him.

"I like this..." His hand runs down the strap of her bikini, across her collarbone, and almost painfully slowly and gently down between her breasts. "I like that you're not hiding under a swimsuit."

"I think I just...I'm not quite as bothered by it now, I guess." She won't waste time claiming she wasn't hiding because she knows she was, hiding from the fact that the sight of her scar served as a constant reminder of how badly she fucked things up. There's still an element of self- consciousness if she sees anyone's gaze flit briefly to it, but it doesn't hold the connotations it once did. Not now they have fixed what was broken and she's creeping closer to being able to see it as a scar the same as any other.

She stops thinking when he kisses her again and his hands drag her bikini bottoms slowly down her legs, his hands steadying her at the waist as she steps out of them. The kiss deepens and she nibbles on his bottom lip, pushing herself against him as he moves a hand between her legs, where she's already wet and has been since she told him on the beach she'd like to come up here and make up for her sleepiness last night. Her attempt at pulling his shorts down fails when he slides his middle finger through her wetness before slipping it inside her and moving his thumb to exactly where she needs it. Her hands rest on his back, her fingers curled against him, her nails surely leaving marks on his skin as his finger and thumb begin a slow, steady tempo. His hand moves up her back, pulling her tighter against him, and she moans when she feels his hardness pushing against her hip. The fingers of one hand trace tenderly across her shoulder blades as the fingers of the other push inside her, deeper and harder as she grows wetter with every stroke.

Reaching down, she manages to squeeze her hand into his shorts to stroke slowly up his hard length, unsurprised when he groans and stops the movement of his own fingers for just a few seconds before letting out a long breath and resuming the motion. His hand slides up her back and into her hair, his fingers massaging the back of her head in tandem with the rhythm of his thumb rubbing in small circles, encouraged by the raggedness in her breathing peppered by loud, urgent moans. His fingers tighten their grip in her hair and he tugs just hard enough to tilt her head back so her can see her face, his eyes dark as he leans down and kisses her, pushing his tongue forcefully against hers as his thumb picks up speed. She can do little more than open her mouth and let his tongue inside to roam wherever it wants to, because she feels ready to explode, her body like a humming collection of live wires about to be connected to the mains. Without warning, his thumb changes direction and he gets as far as one tiny stroke before she comes hard, pulling her lips from his and letting out a strained whimper as her face settles against his chest and she tries to breathe through the sensations of pure release running through her.

His fingers slide out of her and his thumb flicks against her again until she has to push his hand away because it's too much. Her hand is still inside his shorts and he's so hard under her touch that the need to have him inside her is suddenly overwhelming. Taking a step back she pulls his shorts down, pulling off her bikini top and hurling it to the floor as he kicks his shorts in the same direction. Bringing his hand to his mouth, he sucks slowly on his fingers, his eyes fixed on hers as he tastes her on himself.

"Get on the bed, Billy." She hears her own voice, hoarse and heavy with need. "I want to be on top."

He obeys without question, scuttling backwards up the bed, his eyes widening as she crawls towards him, giving him what she knows is quite the view, grinning when she reaches him and settles back on his thighs. Her gaze drops and she leans forward to rest her hands on his shoulders, raising herself up enough to rub back and forth against him, moaning at the feel of him nudging hard at her entrance. Lifting herself a fraction higher, she digs the fingers of one hand into his shoulders and guides him slowly inside with her other hand, sinking down onto him with a satisfied sigh. His hands run up her ribcage, brushing the underside of her breasts before his thumb moves to her nipple, stroking lightly across the hard nub but stopping when she flinches and covers her hand with his with a shake of her head.

"Still?" He looks worried so she smiles and leans forward quickly to kiss him, reassuring him that she's fine. "Sorry..."

"Nothing to be sorry for," she says quickly, running her thumb across his bottom lip.

He moves his hands back down to her ribcage and around to her shoulder blades, supporting her weight as she lets go of him and leans back, gripping his thighs and feeling him driving even harder into her. Throwing her head back and closing her eyes, she gives herself a silent cheer for having married a big man, a thought that brings a smile to her face as he thrusts to match her movements. She feels his hands drifting over her back and she opens her eyes to meet his, their gazes locked as they move in perfect time together. He tilts his hips up slightly and somehow manages to go deeper still, letting out a long, low groan when she takes the opportunity to tighten her muscles around him.

"God...honey..." He has to take a gulp of air in between words, which she takes as a good sign. "Do that again and it's going to be all over any fucking minute now."

"Do what again?" She leans forward, changing the angle and looping her arms around his neck, focusing on the darkness of his eyes as he groans again. Slowly, surely, she repeats her manoeuvre. "Oh, this?"

"Yeah, that," he says, his voice low, rumbling through her like a vibrating bass line.

"I know you're nearly there," she murmurs, feeling his hands roaming across her lower back, cupping her ass cheeks and squeezing hard. "I can tell by your eyes, and the way you're breathing, and the grip of your fingers. I'm going to do what I just did one more time, maybe two, however many it takes for you to come as hard as I did when your fingers were inside me."

She speeds up, squeezes hard around him once more, slows down again and follows a second time, and when she feels his hands scrambling to her hips, his fingers tightening their hold to the point where it almost hurts, she knows one more well timed clench of her muscles is all it will take. Stroking her hands down the sides of his face, her eyes stay firmly on his, and she feels the exact second he comes, the final slow push as he lets go and empties himself into her with a long, low grunt. For a few minutes neither of them moves, she watches the focus return to his eyes, and sees the hint of a smile creep onto his lips as she strokes her thumbs over his cheekbones. When she feels him soften inside her, she reluctantly lifts herself from his lap and rolls off him, turning onto her side next to him and reaching her hand out to settle on his chest.

"What if we just stayed here forever?" She breaks the quiet, smiling at him as he covers hand with his and tangles their fingers together. "We could set up an anchor desk on the beach, I could build a hut out of straw for the control room, and I bet we'd have no shortage of volunteers from the team to come out here and join us."

"I want to say yes just to see you build a straw hut," he says with a lazy grin.

"Well, you're in luck, because straw hut building is my hidden talent." She returns his grin and rolls closer to him, running her foot slowly and lightly down his leg.

"I wouldn't be at all surprised if that turned out to be true." He shrugs and squeezes her fingers. "You were a Girl Scout, right?"

"It's Girl Guides in England, but yeah, same thing. I was a fucking amazing Girl Guide too, my uniform was covered in the patches I earned, the most in my unit by a country mile," she says with a proud nod. "Which is, you know, pretty surprising considering I'm not at all competitive these days."

"No, not in the slightest." He snorts loudly and rolls onto his side, releasing her fingers and leaning in to kiss her. "Mackenzie McHale, Executive Producer, Beach Bunny, and Freckle Queen...it could work."

"It could." She grins and rubs her nose against his before pulling back. "You know what else could work?"

"What?" he asks, stroking his index finger lightly down her side.

"A shower, you and me, in the gorgeous bathroom that comes with this outrageous suite you booked for us," she says, pausing when his finger trails gently across her hip and moves down her groin, sending a tingle through her stomach. "Will..."

"Yeah?" His expression is one of innocence even as he knows exactly what his touch is doing to her.

He seems to have decided that just because he needs some recovery time, it doesn't mean she can't get started again. His finger moves lower and she bites her lip to avoid moaning aloud, her leg lifting almost involuntarily to allow his hand between them before she hesitates and pushes her thighs together again. She grabs his hand and when he raises his eyebrows in question she smiles sheepishly, giggling when he pushes their joined hands lower, making it clear he has every intention of continuing what he just tried to start.

"What's wrong?" he asks, clearly noticing the uncertainty in her eyes. "You don't want to-"

"You know I rarely turn you down when you're heading south, I just..." She pauses, amazed this bridge has never been crossed before, or even contemplated. "I haven't showered yet, or even used the toilet, so...you know, there's still..."

"Honey, are you trying to warn me that I'm about to get a fingerful of my own load?" He smirks and she nods, grinning at him, suddenly amused at her inability to just say it. "Alright, here's how much I give a shit about that."

Letting go of her hand, her guides her from her side onto her back and kisses her, his tongue gently stroking hers before his mouth moves briefly to her neck and then lower. When his lips land on her abdomen and he circles her belly button with his tongue, she realises where he's heading and her stomach flips over at the thought. He pushes her knees apart and kisses the inside of her thighs, tiny butterfly kisses to begin with that graduate to gentle nibbles when she moans in response to his touch. Her insides still feel like melted chocolate from her earlier orgasm and she thinks it's probably her turn now to warn him that this will be over in seconds (as soon as his mouth lands on her, she thinks), but speech seems beyond her so she closes her eyes and clutches the sheets under her hands.

His tongue lands flat against her and his thumbs gently part her to allow his mouth better access. Long, hard strokes combine with gentle, sucking kisses and when his thumbs start to rub softly through her wet folds, she gives up on trying to keep quiet and instead lets out a long, low moan. She feels her body responding instantly, she's so incredibly wet again already, and she feels an unmistakeable heat spread up through her chest and into her cheeks as he sets about making unidentifiable patterns with his tongue. Proving herself right, she comes almost immediately, and his tongue stops moving but presses flat as she pulses hard against it. She closes her eyes and waits for her thighs to stop trembling and for her breathing to return to normal. He slides his lips across her inner thigh, leaving a row of kisses behind, hot and wet against her skin, before lifting his head to look up at her, returning the satisfied smile she gives him.

"So..." She waits for him to move back up the bed, sitting up, resting on her elbows as he rolls onto his side next to her. "Did I taste different? You know, going down there after rather than before?"

"Seriously?" He quirks an eyebrow but she can tell he's thinking about it, and she grins as she watches him run his tongue slowly across his lips.

"I'm just curious, that's all," she says, dragging him closer and covering his mouth with her own, tasting him, slowly pushing her tongue against his before pulling back and smiling. "I don't know if that's you, me, or a combination of both, but it tastes good. Like a really sharp salad dressing."

"Salad dressing?" He looks amused as he sits up and she joins him. "I feel like that's not necessarily a good thing."

"Oh no, it's definitely a good thing, salads are shit without dressing." She gives a faint shrug and reaches for his hand. "Alright, if you haven't rendered me totally unable to walk, I really would like to shower, and I want you in there with me."

"I'll carry you to the damn shower if have to, Mackenzie," he says, already starting to climb off the bed, stopping when she doesn't follow.

"Are you going to shave in there or are you keeping the beach face until we get home?" she asks, watching a curious frown cross his face.

"Hadn't really thought about it." He runs a hand across his chin, over the light stubble making an appearance. "You don't like it?"

"I don't mind it," she says, watching his fingers stroking across his top lip, apparently trying to ascertain exactly how much hair he's gained since they got here. "But I think my delicate thighs are slightly less impressed."

"Ah." He nods, glancing down towards her thighs and grinning. "The thing is, I'm really fond of your thighs and I wouldn't want to upset them, so I guess it needs to go."

"I really think it should." She squeezes his hand before letting go and climbing down off the bed. "But I do appreciate your brief efforts to go caveman."

"Caveman?" He smirks at her, runs his gaze downward, skimming her naked body from top to toe before stepping forward and reaching for her. "Oh, I'll show you caveman."

Before she knows what he's planning, he has her in his arms, his hands under her knees as her hands wrap around his neck and she giggles as they head towards the bathroom.

*

She's tired again, which really should be impossible considering she slept for a solid eight hours last night and napped for almost ninety minutes this afternoon after an admittedly energetic sex session. Part of her wonders if they might always refer to sex from now on as "getting out of the sun for a while," and the thought makes her grin. He seems to sense her tiredness and reaches across the table, resting his hand on her arm, his fingers trailing slowly down to her wrist and over  
the back of her hand, and he smiles when she looks up at him.

"Ready?" he asks, standing when she nods and waiting as she slides her hand slowly into his and they head out of the restaurant.

Leaning into him slightly as they wait for the elevator, she smiles as a woman with a baby joins them, her eyes warming in recognition when her gaze lands on Will.

"You're Will McAvoy, right?" the woman asks, smiling hesitantly, relaxing when he nods and smiles at her. "I love your show, it's the only news show my husband and I watch where we don't end up wanting to throw things at the TV."

"Thanks, I'll take that as a compliment," he says, his natural charm winning her over even more, as ever.

As Will talks to the woman, the baby fixes his stare on her, his blue eyes wide, his rosebud mouth threatening a smile. She smiles back at him, he's a sweet little thing, all big eyes and soft hair, and when he reaches his hand out towards her, she takes it and runs her thumb gently across his chubby knuckles.

"Sorry," the woman says, sheepishly. "He's going through that stage where he just keeps staring at people everywhere we go. It kind of freaks a lot people out, I think."

"Oh no, it's fine," she says, smiling at the baby and his mother. "He's adorable. How old is he?"

"Six months." The woman smiles back and runs her hand over the baby's head. "He's pretty good most of the time, I really can't complain. I feel like he's not as ready for sleep though as he should be right now."

"Well, he certainly seems pretty wide awake," she says, smiling as she lets go of the baby's hand and turns to Will. "This elevator is taking forever, let's walk."

"Alright," he says, smiling at her before turning back to the woman and grinning when he sees the baby with eyes fixed firmly on her. "Have a good night."

"Thank you, you too." The woman smiles and they turn away.

"Don't panic, I'm not going to have us take the stairs twenty-two floors up. Let's go outside and walk for a bit, I'd quite like some air, I think." She squeezes his hand and starts to move towards the main doors, suddenly craving the beach air.

"You okay?" he asks as they step outside, and she turns to him and nods. "See, our show has fans everywhere we go. I think that baby was pretty taken with you too."

"He was a cutie," she says as they start to walk, the warm evening air feeling like a welcome treat after the chill of the air conditioned restaurant.

"Yeah, he was sweet," he says, smiling at her. "Not as cute as ours will be, obviously."

"Will..." Her heart sinks and she feels a sudden combination of sadness and anger, oddly directed at him, which she knows is completely unfair since she's the one who brought this situation on the two of them. "You really need to stop talking like it's...like it's going to happen, when it probably never will. There's really no point in us hanging onto what's only going to turn out to be false hope, it'll just be more disappointing that way."

"It sounds like you've already decided it is hopeless. Is there really any harm in us trying to be optimistic until we see the doctor and find out what the situation is?" He pauses and she feels like she's going to cry or yell at him, and she really doesn't want to do either. "Optimistic Will and defeatist Mackenzie, this is entirely new territory for us."

"I don't even know if there's any point in us seeing the doctor at all." Her words tumble out and when they do she realises how scared she is, how she doesn't know if she can go, and it makes her feel like a coward, a stupid, weak coward. "We're going to show up, they're going to do all kinds of tests, then they'll make us wait for God knows how long for the results, only to tell us there's no hope and we'll never have a baby."

"Honey, you don't know that." He stops walking and turns to her, his voice so tender that it makes her angry at him all over again for bringing this up in the first place with his damn cute baby comments. "I get that you're scared, that you're-"

"I'm not scared," she says, louder than she intended, wishing she could admit it, annoyed with herself for not being able to. "I'm not, I just think...I just wish...fuck, I only agreed to go at all because you thought it was a good idea, and because my mum made me feel like I should. Is that what you wanted?"

"What?" He looks genuinely incredulous, as he has every right to, given that he didn't push her at all, and she knows she's being cruel to suggest that he did. "Mac, I didn't...shit, if you don't want to go then we won't go, we can-"

"Fine!" She pulls her hand from his and takes a step back. "I don't want to go! There, I said it, I  
am scared and I don't want to go. Happy now?"

She doesn't wait for his response before she turns and starts to walk away, stomping across the sand, half of her hoping he will follow, half that he won't. Refusing to look back, she feels the familiar sting of tears welling up as she slows down and comes to an eventual stop, sitting down on the sand and staring out at the ocean, at the approaching sunset, purples and pinks that hold no excitement without Will sitting and watching it with her.

It could be ten minutes, it could be a half hour, she has no idea how long she sits there, but she does know Will, so she guesses it's closer to ten minutes than thirty when she looks up to see him moving to sit down next to her.

"Did you come looking for me to tell me you're on the next flight back to New York and you'll have my things sent on?" She snaps, a sudden defensive nastiness taking over her, one that makes her feel awful even as the words are coming out of her mouth. "Because, you know, it wouldn't be the first time. Maybe I should stick a pin in a map and decide where the fuck I should go next too? Hell, most of the Middle East is still fighting, I have plenty of options."

"I came to see if you were okay." His tone is level and she feels the threat of fresh tears building, her eyes burning. "I know what you're doing here, Mackenzie, I know you want me to say 'fuck this' and leave you alone right now, but it's not going to happen. So just say whatever you need to say to me."

"I did say it." She sighs, picking at an imaginary thread on her skirt, refusing to look at him. "I don't think there's any point in us seeing the doctor. I fucked everything up, and because of that we can't have a baby, I can't have a baby. I brought this all on myself and by default of you marrying me, I dragged you into this sorry scenario with me, so maybe we should just..."

"What? We should just what?" He keeps his eyes fixed firmly on her until she finally looks at him, sadness once again running through her when she sees there's no anger in his gaze, no blame, just concern, yet still she can't seem to do the right thing and back down from her rage.

"I'm tired," she says, getting suddenly to her feet, unsurprised when he does exactly the same. "We should just go."

They ride up to their room in silence, she wraps her arms tightly around herself, and when he steps closer she pushes herself into the corner of the elevator and looks at the floor. She can feel the hurt and frustration rolling off him in confused waves and she wants to throw herself into his arms, but she knows she needs to apologise first and until she calms down there isn't any point, a hurled apology is worse than none at all. He opens the door to their suite and she walks ahead of him, kicking her shoes into the corner of the room and heading into the bathroom, dropping her clothes onto the floor and pulling a t-shirt over her head. In the lounge area she curls up on the couch and pulls a blanket over her, but ignoring him proves impossible when he moves to crouch down beside her and it takes all she has not to tell him to stand up before he fucks up his knees.

"I don't care if you don't talk to me," he says quietly, his voice still lacking even the vaguest hint of anger. "I don't care if I have to hang on to the far side of the bed so you don't have to touch me, but we're both sleeping in the bedroom, Mackenzie."

"Fine," she says, following him into the bedroom and curling up in the position she was in on the couch, feeling him slide into bed behind her, craving his warmth as he turns off the light and she rolls further from him.

"I love you." His voice is barely a murmur, a sigh.

It may be barely a murmur but it's enough to begin her unravelling, her eyes fill again and she feels an overwhelming guilt wash over her for everything she said to him tonight, because in amongst it all the only truth was that she's scared. She rolls over and shifts slightly, hesitating for a second before she brings her hand to rest lightly on his side. When he pulls it gently to him and kisses her fingers, the tears spill over and she pushes herself against him, her face pressed into his back.

"I'm sorry." She knows it's a whisper, she knows her voice is lost somewhat into the cotton of his t-shirt, but she knows he heard her because he turns around, wraps his arms around her and lets her cry. "I'm sorry."

What starts as a sniffle becomes a sob, then a series of sobs, and before she knows what's happening he's dragging them both up into a sitting position and reaching for the light, somehow keeping one arm tightly around her. He runs a thumb across her cheekbone and looks into her eyes, the worry in his own blatantly clear.

"It's okay," he says, his soothing tone adding to her guilt rather than assuaging it as he runs his hand down her arm, over and over, the repetition gradually calming her, her tears moving from gulping sobs back to sniffles. "Honey, it's okay."

"We're here, in Hawaii, the place I always dreamed of for my honeymoon," she says, sniffing again and wiping her face before moving to look up at him. "We leave in a couple of days and I've just wasted half of tonight yelling at you, I don't know what the fuck is wrong with me, I'm sorry. I promise, I just need, like, nine hours of sleep and I'll be fine, no more yelling."

"Only nine?" He quirks an eyebrow and she feels herself managing to smile at him, shifting slightly to snuggle against him as he reaches awkwardly around her to flick the light off again, realising that she's okay, he's not going to have to talk her down from a bout of panic.

"Mmm." She closes her eyes and lets out a long breath as he lays back down and pulls her with him. "Maybe nine and a half."

"I know you know this already, but I'm going to say it anyway." His voice is low, a little wary, and she feels the warm weight of his hand settle in the centre of her back. "Whatever happens, Mackenzie...ten babies, no babies, I love you."

"I know that...I do." She's glad of the darkness, because she knows she wouldn't be able to fake a smile in response, and she feels her heart sink in response to the thought of no babies, even though she's the one trying to be realistic and accept that's the scenario they're likely to be looking at. "I love you too."


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Yeah, but I...I did the thing last night that we said we wouldn’t do anymore when we fight.” She feels bad about a lot of what happened, and about almost everything she said, and she’s furious with herself for letting her temper and her erratic emotions get the better of her. “I walked away, stormed off, I suppose, and I’m sorry.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, this is it, everything restored. Apologies for clogging up everyone's AO3 feed while I put my crap back up. I'll leave you alone now!

She falls short of her sleeping target of nine hours, but not by much. He's awake before she is, and she rolls over to find him sitting up in bed beside her, a book open in his lap and a mug on the nightstand beside him, the faint aroma of coffee wafting under her nostrils.

"Don't mind me, I'll just lie here and watch you read," she says, her voice rough with sleep as she smiles lazily at him. "It's actually kind of sexy, you look like a hot professor."

"A hot professor?" He grins at her and reaches out to run his hand across her shoulder. "Is hot news anchor not good enough for you?"

"Hot news anchor is more than good enough for me." Her grin matches his and they fall silent as he turns his attention back to the book, finishing the page before sliding the bookmark into place and setting it down beside his mug.

"You okay this morning?" he asks, his voice level, calm.

“Yeah, but I...I did the thing last night that we said we wouldn’t do anymore when we fight.” She feels bad about a lot of what happened, and about almost everything she said, and she’s furious with herself for letting her temper and her erratic emotions get the better of her. “I walked away, stormed off, I suppose, and I’m sorry.”

“You made it about twenty feet up the beach, it don't even know if that counts as storming off,” he says, his tone light, deliberately, she’s certain, because she knows she said some terrible things, hurtful things, and he didn’t deserve any of them.

“Still, I’m sorry,” She pauses, knowing they covered all this very late last night, or maybe it was early this morning. “I just…”

“I know.” He smiles at her and brushes the backs of his fingers slowly and softly across her cheek. “I’m sorry too, I should have seen how nervous you were, how nervous you are, about the doctor’s appointment.”

“It’s just that…I’m not sure I need a doctor to tell me I’m not going to be able to have a baby, I think my body is doing a great job of letting me know that all on its own,” she says, wishing she had never risen to his comment the night before, knowing how much easier it would have been to have just smiled and agreed with him that their babies would be cute. "You're a smart guy, I know you have at least a basic knowledge of the human reproductive system, so you’ll know what it probably means when I say I haven’t had a period in forever.”

"When, Mac?" he asks, his brow creasing slightly. "When was your last period?"

"I don't, I think..." She thinks back on how she was convinced she was about to be hit with a wedding night period which didn't arrive, and before that, she knows it was just after they got back together. "July, I guess, somewhere around the middle of July."

"The middle of July." He repeats her words slowly, obviously thinking. "That was nine, maybe ten weeks ago. Have you thought, for a second, that...now, shit, don't yell at me, but have you thought that there’s a chance you could be pregnant already?"

"God, Will, I get that you're trying to make me feel better, but this really, really isn't the way to do it. I know you think I'm being a defeatist with my insistence that the only reason we're seeing the doctor at all is so he can confirm what I already know, but-"

"I'm not trying to make you feel better," he says, shaking his head as if he needs to rethink. "I mean, I _am_ trying to make you feel better, but I'm not saying this just to make you feel better. Shit, hang on."

"Will..." She doesn't really know what else she was about to say, so she falls quiet and watches as he reaches for his phone, frowning, looking for whatever it is he thinks he should show her.

"Okay." He nods, glances at her, and moves closer before he starts to read what's on the screen in front of him. "Nausea, tiredness, cravings, feeling emotional, sore breasts, dizziness. Any of that sound familiar?"

"I, yeah, I suppose...but it's..." She sits up slightly, propping herself up on her elbow, her head spinning suddenly as she wonders if there's a chance, a tiny possibility he could be right. "We've been so busy planning for the wedding, and then the anniversary broadcast, and I just thought it was stress and not...oh, wait, no, it can't be, they took a test when we went to the ER for my hand and it was negative."

"Which, again, was what? Five, six weeks ago?" He takes hold of her hand, running his thumb over hers. "It's not like we've been abstaining since then, honey, far from it."

“No, we haven’t,” she says, managing a hesitant smile in his direction. “The hospital was...five weeks, almost five weeks ago. Wait, do you really think…what are you saying?”

“Well, I'm not a doctor, obviously, but I think there are a couple of things on this list…and it says some of these things can start pretty early on...” He waves his phone at her, holding up the screen showing the list of early pregnancy signs. “I think it’s a possibility, that’s what I’m saying.”

“Okay, well, I guess when we get home we should find out before we go to our appointment, right?” She thinks about the fight they had last night, the dread that had been building in her gut as the appointment grew closer, and she dares to wonder for just a second if it might all have been for nothing.

“Yeah, you already being pregnant would render the appointment kind of redundant,” he says quietly, hesitation in his tone. “We could find out now, I mean, if you didn’t want to wait, or-“

"It can wait until we get home, Billy.” She stops him, shrugging, filled suddenly again with fear at the thought of the disappointment that would come with finding they were clutching at straws.

"Sure, it can wait. Whatever you want, honey." He nods in agreement and in that very second she knows she can't wait until they get home, she needs to know now.

"Actually, no, screw that." Sitting up fully, she pulls back the sheet, turning back to look at him. "There's a pharmacy downstairs, right?"

"Yeah," he says, realisation crossing his face. "Yeah, we can just-"

"We? We nothing," she says quickly. "You need to stay here, the last thing we need is some tourist taking a photo of you in the pregnancy test section, especially when it turns out to be a total waste of time. All of those things, the signs you just listed...all of that could quite easily be put down to nerves about the wedding, you must be able to see that.”

“Even the, you know…” He points at her, his eyes moving down from her face to her chest. “The boob thing?”

“No, but that one is probably just because I haven’t had a period,” she says, sighing, trying to share his optimism but way too afraid to allow herself to hope.

“And we’re back again to why you haven’t had a period.” He watches her closely as she climbs out of bed and starts looking through the pile of clothes on the chair, throwing on shorts and a tank as she takes a deep breath. “You’ll come right back up?”

“Well, I was thinking I’d pop into the bar, get a snack, take the test in the bathroom down there, but if you’d rather I come back up…” She stops at the sight of his frown, stepping back to the bed and leaning over to kiss him. “Yes, you nut, of course I’ll come right back up.”

She stands for too long in the pharmacy, paralysed by indecision, by panic, by the fear that this is setting them both up for disappointment, but her raw stubbornness won't let her go back to their suite empty handed, so she takes a breath and picks up a test. A second to be completely sure seems like a sensible idea too so she finds herself in line to pay for both, barely managing eye contact with the cashier even though she's quite sure the woman could not care less. Grabbing the bag, she moves quickly back out into the lobby and steps into the elevator, keeping her eyes fixed firmly ahead and zoning out the other occupants, focusing solely on making it back to where Will's waiting without completely freaking out.

He's pacing the room when she walks back in, although he stops when he sees her and tries to affect an expression of calm, leaning quasi-casually against the wall.

"I bought two," she says, holding the bag up and giving him a nervous smile. "I don't really know why."

"Okay." He nods and smiles back at her as she pulls one of the tests out of the bag. "Well, whenever you...you know."

"I guess I may as well just do it now, right?" Biting her lip, she looks at him, knowing he's going to say it's completely up to her, hating herself again for yelling at him last night that the only reason she agreed to the doctor's appointment was because he wants to go. "Yeah, I will. I'll do it now."

She puts the bag containing the second test down on the bed, taking the test she has in her hand and heading for the bathroom, resting a brief hand on his arm as she passes.

"Do you need me to..." He pauses and she stops as she feels his hand grab hers. "Should I come with you?"

"I'm a big girl," she says, smiling at him. "I think I can manage to pee all by myself." 

"Yeah, sorry, I know." He shakes his head and a sheepish look crosses his face.

"It's okay." She slides her fingers slowly out of his grasp and smiles again. "I'll just be a minute."

In the bathroom she realises how nervous she is when she can't get the package open because her hands are shaking so much. Putting the box down beside the sink, she clasps her hands together and takes a deep breath, looking at herself in the mirror, noting the worried crease between her eyes. She reads the back of the box as she works to even her breathing; two lines for positive, they're looking for two lines.

"Alright, come on." She sighs and glares at her reflection, picking up the test, tearing off the plastic and opening the box.

When she's done, she knows she can't stay in the bathroom, she needs to move, she knows Will is probably tearing his hair out next door in the bedroom, and it isn't fair that she's in here with the answer to the question that he thought to raise. Turning the test over, the little window facing down onto the counter, she washes her hands and lets out a long breath before picking it up and opening the door.

"Does it bleep or something when it's ready?" he asks, watching as she walks across the room and stands looking out of the window.

"It's not a microwave." She doesn't turn to face him but she thinks he can probably hear the smile in her tone. "No, no bleep, we just give it a couple of minutes and then we look at it."

The test is still in her hand, clutched tightly between her fingers, her thumb running across the small window where she knows the result will appear any minute now. She has no idea how she will react no matter what it says because she really didn't expect to be peeing onto a stick in a hotel bathroom on her honeymoon. What she did expect was for them to see the specialist in two weeks, to have to prepare herself to be told that a baby for her is unlikely, her best hope that maybe they'd be told that fertility treatment would be worth a try. Instead she's here, thinking about the list of signs Will pointed out that admittedly lend themselves to those of early pregnancy, but not prepared to concede that it's the only logical explanation.

"How long do you think it's been?" She turns and finds him standing right behind her, just waiting until she was ready to speak, she thinks. "I think I sort of zoned out, I don't know..."

"I think we're probably about there," he says, his eyes glancing downwards at the test at her side, her fingers still curled around it. "You know, if you're ready."

He takes a step closer and she loves him for not pushing, for waiting for her to turn the test over in her own time and bring it slowly up to where she can see it. She looks up at him and he gives her the smallest of smiles, the tiny nudge of encouragement she needs as she takes another calming breath and looks at the test. Two lines greet her; two strong, pink, totally unmistakeable lines, and for a few seconds she can't quite absorb what it's telling her. She holds the test up for him to see, her hands shaking as she does, and a smile of disbelief creeping onto her lips, matched by his confusion.

"I don't know what we're meant to be looking for." He frowns, looking first at the test, then at her, and something falls into place when he sees her smile. "Two lines? Is two lines what we're looking for?"

"Yep," she says, the smile on her face growing wider, her hands still holding the test, as if putting it down might change the result, which she knows is ridiculous. "I'm pretty sure Google did the work, but are you sure there wasn't a quick stop at medical school somewhere in between law and journalism?"

"It's positive?" He looks as stunned as she felt just seconds ago, so she knows he'll catch up with her before long. "It's...you're pregnant?"

"Yep." She lets go of the test as he takes it gently from her hand, staring at the result, his eyes wide, his grin too when he looks at her. "I guess we should call and cancel the appointment with the specialist."

"Yeah, I guess we...God, what am I doing? You should be sitting down, right?" He steers her towards the bed and she silently complies when he gently guides her to sit down. "What else should I do? What do you need? Do I need to call someone? Who do we call, Charlie? Your mom?"

"The only reason I need to be sitting down is because my knees are shaking right now, you don't need to do anything, I'm fine, and we definitely don't need to call anyone, not yet." She reaches for his hand, grabbing tightly onto it, wondering if his touch will cut through the feeling of almost complete disbelief making her feel like she's dreaming and about to wake up and come crashing back to earth. "When we get home I'll call Katherine and schedule an appointment, but I think that's all we do for now."

"Does this thing tell us if it's a boy or a girl?" He gestures to the test in his hand, frowning faintly in thought.

"At this stage, I'm pretty sure it's mostly just some kind of tadpole, but yeah, somewhere along the line it'll decide if it's going to be a boy or a girl," she says, smiling at him when he turns to her. "Do you mind which it is?"

"As long as it looks like you and has all the fingers and toes it's meant to, I couldn't care less." His smile matches hers but then she sees his eyes cloud with worry again and she wonders what has occurred to him now. "Shit, Mac, how are we going to get home?"

"Same way as we got here, but in the opposite direction." She can't stop smiling so she doesn't bother to try, even as his frown refuses to lift. "How else would we get home?"

"You're pregnant, surely you can't fly?" He looks so genuine, and so worried, that she feels guilty when a giggle escapes her.

"You do know that pregnant women can leave the house, and live perfectly normal lives despite this affliction, right?" She squeezes his hand, she knows he's just realising he knows nothing about this, and he doesn't deal well in situations where he's out of his depth. "I can fly, Will, it's fine. I need to lay off the coffee a bit though, and there sadly won't be any more honeymoon cocktails for me, but apart from that, and a list of banned foods that I really need to look up, I can carry on almost like a regular person."

"Right, sorry, I just..." he says, the panic in his eyes receding slightly as she runs her thumb across his. "I don't know any of this stuff, I really don't, I need to find a book on it, or something."

"I don't think that'll be difficult, I'm sure someone must have thought to write a book about it." She nudges his shoulder to make it clear she's teasing.

"And what about the sex?" He blurts the question out and she's confused because he literally asked her the same thing just seconds earlier.

"Like I said, it's too early to know the sex yet," she says, wondering how little of the last few minutes has sunk in with him.

"No, not the baby's sex," he says, pausing as she looks up at him. "Sex, you and me, the sex."

"You've lost me, Billy." She's becoming more baffled by the minute and she wonders if she should fetch a cold cloth from the bathroom to stun him back into something close to sense. "Top marks on the sex, job well done, high five to us-"

"What I mean is, we've been having a ton of it, and should we worry?" He looks embarrassed to be asking, but he sighs and goes on. "Is he, or she, I mean, is the baby going to be okay in there or if we'd known should we have stopped?"

"Ah, now I get where you're going," she says, grinning at him and the puzzled expression on his face. "No, it's fine, sex is fine, I mean, we can double check but I'm pretty sure we can keep doing it all we like...and I do like, for the record."

“Do you feel okay?” he asks suddenly, even though he spends every day with her, and she wonders if it’s something he’ll ask every hour for the next eight months.

“I feel fine…I mean, I’ve been tired, and I haven’t been feeling quite myself, but I just didn’t think…” She shrugs and pulls his hand across to rest it gently on her abdomen. “I can’t believe I didn’t put two and two together, I really just thought it was the madness of preparing for the wedding, and…holy shit, we’re having a baby.”

“Yeah.” He smiles and his fingers start to move slowly across her tank top, and it feels like he’s saying hello to the tiny cluster of what will eventually evolve from a tadpole style blob into their child.

“I guess this answers the question of what to do with the second bedroom,” she says quietly, her mind drifting into thoughts of a crib, stuffed toys, something suitably cute stencilled onto the walls.

“It does, and we need to buy stuff," he says, his fingers falling still but staying pressed to her stomach. “Something for it to sleep in, and diapers, feeding things, clothes, and we need new stuff for you to wear too, we need to-“

“Could you maybe slow down?” She covers his hand with her own and smiles at him. “We do need all of that stuff, but not yet, and for the moment the only reason I’d need new clothes is because of all the damn donuts. We’ll need to see Katherine to find out for sure, but I can’t be more than a few weeks along, Will. Seriously, we have a long way to go before I have to send you up a ladder to start stencilling cute little zoo animals onto the walls.”

“Not that you’ve thought about that kind of thing at all.” He grins and she knows she’s been caught in her daydream.

“I haven’t spent a single minute of my life trying to decide between monkeys and giraffes, nope,” she says, leaning against him and allowing herself to picture their second bedroom as she hoped it would be, rather than one of the options she had resigned herself to using it for.

*

It's been a strange and slightly surreal two weeks, and Hawaii feels like a long time ago. She saw Katherine two days after they got back, who confirmed the pregnancy with a genuinely delighted smile and a reminder that she should cancel the appointment with her colleague. Six weeks pregnant is the verdict, and it doesn't take long to figure out that Hurricane Irene probably played her part, throwing the power out in the apartment and leaving them in candlelight. Two days after telling Katherine she was feeling great, the sickness kicked in (she really hopes the timing isn't a sign of baby's rebellious streak), and is only being kept at bay by the ridiculous combination of cold Pop Tarts and green tea. If anyone at work has noticed she has tea in her mug now instead of coffee, they haven't commented, and Sloan even bought her 'post-honeymoon detox' line at the bar after the show.

She's had to buy new bras already which serves as a reminder of her final wedding dress fitting when she had wondered where the hell her extra cleavage had come from. Hindsight is a wonderful yet twisted thing, she knows now that the logical part of her brain would have started to question the signs had her self-preservation instinct and absolute refusal to build her hopes up not stubbornly stepped in. They have an empty second bedroom, everything that was stored in there is unpacked, and the room sits in quiet anticipation, awaiting the day several months from now when she will sit and watch Will drive himself crazy in his stencilling attempts. He may be the superstitious one, but she's thirty-six years old with a womb she was told was unlikely to be doing what it is right now, so she's taking no chances and refuses to even consider buying anything for the room yet.

"Hi Mum." Her phone rings as she's halfway across the bullpen, and she frowns slightly as she answers. "Is everything okay?"

"Fine, darling, but I was about to ask you the very same question." Her mother's voice with an obvious curiosity in its tone makes her smile. "Are you terribly busy though? I can call back if this isn't a good time."

"No, it's fine," she says as she reaches her office and closes the door behind her. "You're sure everything's alright? You don't usually call in the middle of a weekday, that's all."

"I know, but I wanted to ask how things went with the specialist this morning." Quite uncharacteristically, Penny doesn't push any further, even though the urge to bombard her with questions is probably almost killing her.

"Oh." She realises that in the whirlwind of the last couple of weeks she hadn't told her mother the appointment was cancelled, and she hadn't intended to tell her about the pregnancy yet either, but now she has her on the phone she wants her to know, she really wants her to know. "Well, actually, we didn't go."

"Oh, I thought...well, I thought you had come around to the idea?" Her mother sounds confused, understandably considering the last time they spoke about it she had made it clear that she was ready to go, to face up to whatever news they were given. "But of course you can reschedule, I'm sure, I mean if you're not ready or-"

"There just really didn't seem like any point," she says, sitting down and grinning at the unopened box of Pop Tarts that has appeared on her desk.

"Oh, Mackie, I know it probably feels like that, but doctors can do the most remarkable things now," Penny says, reassuringly. "Even if it isn't great news, there may be a treatment or-"

"Mum, that's not what I meant." She stops her, wanting to tell her now exactly why they didn't keep the appointment. "There was no point in us going because it's not necessary...because, well, I'm already pregnant."

"You're..." Her mother is rarely lost for words but this seems to have rendered her almost speechless. "Darling, did you just say you're pregnant?"

"Yes," she says, feeling a laugh bubbling up in her chest at the feeling of saying it aloud to someone other than Will and her doctor. "We started to wonder while we were in Hawaii, based on some of the signs that I'd been writing off as wedding stress or whatever...anyway, I took a test, and it was positive, so we saw the doctor when we got home and yeah, I'm pregnant, eight weeks."

"Oh, sweetheart, congratulations!" Penny regains the power of speech and she sounds delighted at the prospect of two grandchildren arriving within a few months of each other. "You must be over the moon, and Will too, I'm sure. Clearly he has some quite determined little swimmers. Do tell him I said jolly well done, won't you?"

"I absolutely won't be telling him that." She snorts down the phone, picturing the smirk on her mother's face and the twinkle in her eyes. "I will tell him you said congratulations."

"That is what I said, congratulations...on his magnificent swimmers," Penny says, enjoying herself far too much. "Anyway, how are you feeling?"

"Tired, mostly. Sick too, on and off, but really just exhausted." She pauses and slides the box of Pop Tarts into her drawer so they're on hand for whenever she next needs them. "I feel like if I close my eyes I could sleep at any given moment, even standing up."

"Bear with it, Mackie, it passes," her mother says kindly. "It's bloody frightful for a good chunk of the first trimester but it does pass, I promise."

"That's what I keep reminding myself when I want to curl up and sleep under my desk every afternoon," she says, looking quickly at the time and realising she needs to go if she's to make the next rundown meeting. "Sorry to cut this short, but I have a meeting. I'll call tomorrow or Sunday and we can talk properly, okay?"

"Of course," Penny says brightly. "I'll look forward to it...oh, your father's just walked in, can I pop him on the phone for a moment? I know you'd rather tell him yourself, wouldn't you?"

"Hello, my poppet." Her father's cheerful voice comes over the line. "Tell me what yourself?"

"I'm going to call over the weekend and talk properly, but I do have something to tell you." She smiles as she pictures her mother sitting beside him, almost bursting to break the news herself. "I'm pregnant, Daddy."

"Mackie, what absolutely lovely news," her father says, the smile on his obvious in his tone. "I'm delighted for you, I really am. Gosh, grandchildren aplenty all of a sudden...wonderful Congratulations, darling."

"Thank you," she says, smiling down the phone. "I'm so sorry but I really do need to run. Could you...we haven't told anyone else yet, it's still early, and, you know-"

"Not a word, petal." He stops her, reassuring her instantly that their secret is safe as long as they want it to be. "And don't worry, I shall also relay that to your mother."

"Thanks, Daddy." She grins at thought of her father giving her mother strict instructions to keep quiet about it. "Talk soon, okay?"

"Indeed we shall, take care." Her father ends the call and she stands up to head to the meeting.

As she walks across the bullpen she realises that was the first of many conversations of that sort. If everything goes well (and she can't allow herself to think about how she'll cope if it doesn't), in just a few weeks they will be sharing the news with Charlie and Nancy, with Leona, and with their staff. She smiles as she reaches the conference room and pushes the door open.

"Alright, team." Her smile grows a little wider as she looks around the room and sees Will meet her gaze with a blatantly smitten grin. "What have we got for tonight?"


End file.
